Carefree No Longer
by saltoftheearth
Summary: JD is forced to revisit past trauma and is finding himself back in a place he never thought he'd be again.
1. My Overly Sensitive Day

Author's note: Ok, I have never done a Scrubs fic before. In fact I have only ever worked on one other fanfic before, and I really don't know what I am doing. I know that the characterizations are going to be waaaay off, nauseatingly off. This is really more of a random thought – an experiment. Something that just popped in my head. Just be advised it won't be great. It won't be vintage JD or Dr. Cox or anything. I hope someone likes it anyway.

**Disclaimer: No owning, just playing. No suing.**

**JD's POV**

You know those mornings when you wake up feeling extremely sensitive? Maybe I had a really disturbing dream where I was captured by aliens that resembled Dr. Kelso and forced to listen to old volumes of Teen Beat magazines being read aloud by Elliot. After which I was strung up by my toe nails, dipped in pesto, and left for the crows to peck me to death. Could be, but I doubt it. I'm actually pretty sure I know why, but I also would really rather not think about that.

The alarm went off at 5:03am. I lay there for a few moments, listening to the song that happened to be playing on the radio when it automatically turned on. It was "Mad World" by Gary Jules. Maybe it was the song's fault I was feeling this way. Only I know that's not true since I woke up before the radio went off, and I already felt heavy and…sad? No, it couldn't be sadness. As a general rule I don't get sad. No, that wasn't the right word. What is it? Vulnerable? Maybe.

I slowly turned my head and blinked at the radio. This song seemed to be a rather fitting one to wake up to. I think I'd like to nurture my mood today. Really feed it. If I could carry around a portable CD player at the hospital, I would have this song on repeat as a soundtrack to my world at present. The thought almost made me smile. Almost.

"JD! Turn that thing off and get up!" Carla hollered through the wall. She sounded monumentally irritated.

Woah, someone else is in a funk today I hear. Reminder to self: avoid contact with Carla as much as possible. I've always been prone to sticking my foot in my mouth and saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, but something tells me that today that could be exaggerated way beyond normal. Reminder to self: avoid contact with _everyone_ today.

A part of me is really tempted to ignore Carla and finish listening to the song. It's so pleasantly haunting. Mellow and dark. I love it.

Carla threw the door open. For a second I could have sworn she had smoke coming out of her nostrils and a forked tongue darting in and out of her mouth. I blinked. Nope, just Carla. Carla looking pissed.

"JD. I am not in the mood for that depressing crap. And if you're late today you'll put Perry in a mood that I _really _don't want to deal with today. So do me and everyone else a favor and turn that thing off and GET UP!"

I blink a couple more times. Now would be a great time to drift off into a JD fantasy world where people don't yell at you first thing in the morning and everything is shiny and happy. But, my brain isn't cooperating today and that doesn't happen. The song is ending anyway, and I suppose it would be better to shut it off before some overly eager radio announcer comes on and interrupts the last notes of the song, killing the mood.

Oh wait, Carla already did that.

I did mention that I was feeling a little sensitive today, didn't I? Well, I am. I can quite often let things like morning irritability and yelling roll off my back, smile, and go about my day. Like everyone else, though, I have those days where that is a wee bit more difficult than normal. And this being an overly sensitive day…yeah…you get the point.

I reach over slowly and turn off my radio. I've been told that my face gives away my feelings almost instantaneously, like a neon sign blinking above my head. I'm a little worried about what that's going to mean today. I think my reminder to self to avoid everyone includes not letting anyone get a good look at my face, doesn't it?

So, I'm not looking at Carla. Eye contact is definitely out. And I'm tired. Faking happiness takes energy. Can you have a flat affect and be overly sensitive at the same time? I think I saw her turn to leave out of the corner of my eye. I don't want to get up. But if I don't then I'll get yelled at some more by people who can be far more vicious than Carla. And it would be in a public setting. I'm not sure I would deal very well with that today.

So I get up. I get ready. I zoned out in the shower, which received a yelling at from Turk. I think he felt bad about it because he tried to feed me s'mores pop tarts. Which made Carla mad at him because they were the last ones in the pack, and she had been looking forward to eating them. I think Turk is mad at me again because I inadvertently made Carla mad at him.

"Sorry, Carla. I wasn't going to eat them anyway. I'm not hungry. You go ahead."

Did that sound ok? It's true enough. I'm not hungry. And as insane as it sounds, I'm not in the mood for s'mores flavored pop tarts. Man, I am in a mood today. Lucky for me, I can find humor and cheeriness in just about anything, so, my mission today is to pay close attention and I'm bound to find something that zaps this mood.

Right now though, I haven't even gotten over the first time someone yelled at me today. And now I've been yelled at three times, and both my roommates are mad at me, and I feel guilty that Carla is mad at Turk. I know I'm such a girl and Dr. Cox will actually be justified in his creative name calling today, but I really just feel like hiding in a corner and crying.

Which is why I don't wait to see if Carla eats her pop tarts and cheers up, and I don't wait for them before I leave for the hospital. Instead I hop on my scooter and "scoot" over to the hospital. I park my scooter in my usual space and then…freeze.

"There's got to be a way out of this."

I know I said that out loud. Or more like murmured. I don't even look around to see if anyone heard me. I'm going to try to stick to my no eye contact policy today. Which is part of the reason why I am frozen in place. Walking across the parking lot and into the hospital will most definitely mean running into people.

It's actually quite chilly out here, and I'm really not dressed for the weather. My teeth are chattering, and I know that if I just relaxed my muscles I wouldn't be shaking so much. My eyes are starting to water and I am sooo grateful that it's because of the cold and not because I'm a sissy.

I can see the janitor through the door. Another reason why I am frozen. Sensitive days are not good days to be near the janitor. He just looked my way and gave me the death threat point-trail-finger-along-throat move. Not good. NOT GOOD! Maybe if I stand here long enough I'll freeze in place semi-permanently and will have a valid excuse for not going into work today.

I swallow a sure-to-be-girly scream as someone roughly brushes past me, slamming me with their shoulder. I don't recognize them, and they don't seem to care that they practically body slammed me. It's best not to react. Not to say anything. Someone just pulled up into the space next to mine. I don't look over, but I can see that it's Dr. Cox since he's now walking in front of me into the hospital.

Am I invisible? Is that why no one is acknowledging my existence? Maybe this whole avoiding people thing will be easier than I thought today. I could almost smile with relief. Until I remember that even though most of my being wants to fade away completely, there is a part of me that is now feeling rejected and disliked. Ignored. Unimportant. And now I'm back to wanting to cry.

Miraculously I make my feet move, and I blink away the threatening tears and hope that I look like I'm cold, and not like my boyfriend just broke up with me and I didn't win prom queen.

**8 hours later…**

So here I am, 8 hours into a double shift and I feel like I've been here for a week. The janitor managed to make me fall on my ass in front of one of the cutest nurses I've ever seen as soon as I walked in the door. I forgot about my avoid all contact policy and tried to say hi to Lavern, but she stopped me before I had a chance to even say "good morning" and informed me that it was not a good morning and that she was in no mood for my sickening cheerfulness. I could have corrected her understandable mistake and told her that she needn't worry about me being sickeningly cheerful today, but it didn't seem worth it, and she clearly didn't seem to be in the right head space for the correction.

Dr. Cox has only given me the time of day to yell at me about not being efficient enough or competent enough or prompt enough. And when I say yell, I mean, this wasn't even his typical call me three different girl names and speed talk through a witty and snarky speech that leaves me admiring him instead of feeling bad. I'm talking, he was too angry to even be witty and snarky. He was simply mean. And as usual, it was in front of half the staff. And he did this three times.

To be fair, I am really quite spacey today. I can't concentrate, and I know I'm not doing my best work. Maybe I'm just upset about it because this time I completely agreed with him. You should have seen the look he gave me, though. I can't remember the last time I felt so repulsive and reviled. Actually I can. But that's something I can't think about now. Not now. Not now. Not now.

"Hey, Susan. Would you mind telling me why you're standing in the middle of the hallway, dropping…Mrs….Lavino's chart all over the floor?" Dr. Cox bent down to pick up one of the stray papers off the floor to read the patient's name.

Oh God, he's going to yell at me again. Think of something good. Think of something fast. Ok. First things first, open your eyes you useless sack of crap! How long have I been standing here with my eyes closed?

Oh shit, I almost made eye contact. It wasn't my fault. He happened to be standing in my line of vision when I opened my eyes. My head feels light…like something's shifting around inside there. I want to close my eyes again and pretend that I'm lying down and the hallway is a cozy bed with a down comforter and feather pillows. Only they'd have to have some serious pillow protectors on them because those suckers can REEK! Light as a feather, stiff as a board. Wasn't that some game we used to play in grade school? I walked into the wrong room earlier today, there was someone in the bed who was stiff as a board.

"Holy shit, Shirley…"

Oh crap! I forgot I was supposed to be answering Dr. Cox! He's ranting right now. I'm choosing to zone him out - or trying my best to. A few choice words are getting through, though.

"…useless…idiot…waste of space….little girl…"

Ok, zoning out not 100 effective. I may have failed at avoiding him, but I can do a mid-contact avoidance move. I can walk away, never saying a word, never making a sound, and most importantly, never making eye contact.

There. Now I'm safely out of earshot. And unless I am completely out of it, I was in fact supposed to be getting lunch anyway. I'm still not hungry, but my legs mechanically take me to the cafeteria. Stupid legs. My arms hate me too, because they mechanically got a tray of food.

Now I find myself standing here like an idiot, in everyone's way, not having the slightest clue what to do with myself. I see Todd, Turk, Elliot, and Carla all eating at a table. They don't see me. Which I find a relief because:

a) There doesn't appear to be enough room for me at the table unless I squeeze in on the end

b) My brain has been unable to effectively form words to anyone (excluding patients thankfully) all day

c) I am still getting the vibe that Turk and Carla aren't completely happy with me and that would just be awkward

d) I'm not hungry. I don't want to eat. I don't want to be here.

So, I abruptly turn around and almost send some guy's food flying in the process.

"Oh! Sorry." I mumble, again, not making eye contact.

I just can't seem to make the right decisions today. Decision to turn around at that exact moment resulted in almost having the dreaded dropping tray in cafeteria disaster. Luckily, he had good reflexes. I'm pretty sure he swore at me. But, I'm too busy stuffing my untouched food into the nearest trashcan and throwing the tray into the tray holder to retort, or repeat the apology in case he didn't catch it the first time.

"What a waste."

I glance up to see the lady who served me my food giving me the lunch lady death glare for throwing away my food without eating it.

I tried to apologize, but my throat is tightening up because I'm pretty sure I'm dangerously on the verge of tears, and a strange strangled squeak that barely resembles the words "I'm sorry" comes out instead.

Since I feel like being one gigantic cliché right now, I duck my head in shame and brush past Dr. Cox's name tag…

Oh shit, Dr. Cox's name tag – DR. COX! Please don't see me, please don't turn around, _please_ don't yell at me!

Now I know I must look like a mental case because I am walking like I'm in a speed walking marathon. Only my hands are stuffed in my pockets and I keep clumsily bumping into people, who keep swearing at me. And I think I heard Dr. Cox call me Tracy.

I don't look up until I'm on the roof. Safely on the roof. Freezing on the roof. The cold air makes me cough. The several flights of stairs have left me quite winded and now my chest is killing me from gulping in large amounts of cold air. My eyes are watering again. This time I'm not sure what it's from.

I slide down the side of the building, behind a big pipe, as far away from the usual places doctors and nurses gather up here to smoke and take a break. It's so cold today, I hope it means no one else will be up here. Of course….I'm up here, so I guess that means anyone else could come up too.

It's so quiet. Everything feels still. I have nothing else to focus on but…me. I feel exhausted. I feel weak. I feel heavy. I feel like a brownie. Like if someone poked me it would leave a permanent indentation. Actually, I feel awful.

I haven't found anything to be happy about all day. I smiled at my patients, but I doubt it was terribly convincing because they all sort of looked at me funny, like they weren't quite sure if I was quite right in the head. _I'm_ not sure if I'm quite right in the head.

I pull my knees up to my chest, try to make myself as small as possible - just in case someone does come up here, maybe I could hide. I bury my face in my knees. It's just to protect it from the cold, that's all. But now it's dark and silent. And somehow I feel more exposed than ever.

I feel utterly wretched. I can't even recall one kind smile or word directed at me today. Of course, I haven't really been looking at people and therefore wouldn't have seen a smile. But I've heard some words – and all of them have been less than desirable. All in all, it's been a bad, horrible day. And it's only half over.

I think I'm getting numb. I must have been in this position for a lot longer than I meant to. Yet, I can't seem to move. I wonder what time it is. I know my break must be over. But, since I can't do anything right today, I guess it's only natural that I take an extra long lunch break.

My pager is going off. The beeping isn't as loud as I thought it was. I think the wind might be devouring the sound – whisking it away from me so I don't need to hear it or answer it. The damage has been done, however, and I am slowly and painfully being drawn back into cold, harsh reality. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Rise and shine Priscilla."

Oh shit – the bridge has been breached – THE BRIDGE HAS BEEN BREACHED! Pretend you didn't hear that. No, wait – you've been acting weird enough as it is all day. Maybe my whole avoidant approach is just making this worse. Maybe I need to reconsider. Act normal. Act normal.

Dr. Cox just kicked my foot. Nice start to acting normal, JD - keep balled up in a stony silence until he kicks you to see if you're still alive. Good work.

"Sorry." Ok, talking, not so bad. This could work….if you didn't sound like you swallowed an army of ants maybe.

"Excuse me Martha? Are you trying to speak?"

And maybe taking your head out of the cave you've created would be a nice touch. I look up, clear my throat, and try again.

"How did you know I was here?" Wait – what? What kind of response is that? Damn it, why am I acting like I'm hiding from him? Oh, I suppose because I am…ug.

Dr. Cox gave me his best "you're a freakin' idiot" look and waggled his pager in my face.

Suddenly I feel largely ashamed and look down. "Oh." Sometimes I am really quite brilliant.

There is a really awkward silence, which now that I think about it isn't all that common around here. We all know how much Dr. Cox likes to talk, and I can be something of a Chatty-Kathy myself. Only right now I really can't trust myself to say anything that makes any sense or that won't piss someone off. So I'm trying to think long and hard before I make my next move or say anything.

Making my next move….that might be difficult really. I'm beginning to realize that I've been scrunched up in this position for longer than physically beneficial, add the cold air to that and my general weariness and it probably won't be a pretty sight when I finally uncurl myself and try to stand.

I find that the very thought of physical movement of any kind where someone else can see it is making me anxious. I have a headache. I'm freezing. I think I'm shaking.

"You've been gone for an hour."

I stop my current activity of rubbing my temples, and swallow.

"I've been up here for an hour?" I hate how squeaky I sound. I hate that I can't get my hands to stop shaking. I hate that I'm so fascinated by it and I know that the longer I sit here staring at them shaking, the more likely Dr. Cox will notice.

"I don't know, have you? I said you've been gone for an hour. You would be the one to know where you've been."

He sounds so irritated. I guess he always does. Right now I just wish it wasn't me who was irritating him. Only I seem powerless to stop it.

I stop looking at my hands and slowly uncurl myself. My limbs feel heavy and uncooperative. And cold. It really is quite cold. Now I'm just sitting here because I can't figure out how to stand up.

Dr. Cox holds his hand out to me. I can feel the beginnings of a smile forming in my eyes and tugging at the corners of my mouth. The first act of kindness extended to me today. He's offering me his hand. I look up at him and see that he's scowling. My smile dies before it's fully formed.

I swallow and stare at his hand for a moment. I have a sudden fear that he's toying with me. I slowly reach my hand out, it's still shaking. My fingernails are blue. There's a ridiculous panic quickly spreading from my stomach to my throat. I'm scared that he's going to take his hand away if I move to grab it.

I must have been thinking about that for too long because Dr. Cox just grunted and shot his hand forward to snatch mine. I involuntarily jerked back and gasped. How embarrassing. Normally I would laugh at myself out loud for that, but…not today. Today I dwell on it. Today I get to add that to the growing list in my head of stupid things I've done and said, and of things that have made me sad or anxious. What the hell is wrong with me? I think I know the answer to that, but I can't think about that or I'm really going to lose it.

Dr. Cox manages to help me up to a standing position. Well, semi-standing. I'm leaning against the wall behind me. I forgot that the wall only goes up to the top of my thighs, however. Since I am a colossal klutz today, and have yet to regain the proper use of my leg muscles from sitting in the same position for close to an hour, I feel myself alarmingly close to toppling over the ½ wall, and off the roof.

Thankfully there is someone near me who is paying attention and is strong enough to grab a hold of me and pull me away from the wall.

"Jesus, JD."

He called me JD.

My near-falling-to-my-death experience has caused an unpleasant tightening my stomach, a pounding of my blood in my temples, and I am now shaking more than ever. I think I want to throw up, too. The wind is blowing harder up here, now that I'm standing. I can't look up. But I can tell Dr. Cox is running his hand through his hair.

"Sorry…thanks."

"For the love of all things holy….what in God's name is wrong with you today?"

I blink at him, and I know my expression is infuriatingly blank. I honestly have no idea how to answer that question.

"Sorry."

He looks so disgusted I almost apologize again. Instead I blink at him some more like a mindless blob.

"You have 7 more hours, Katie. Are you going to be able to pull it together and actually _work_ for the remainder of your shift, or do I have to send you home to sleep whatever this is off and cover for your sorry ass? Which I would just loooovee to do since my dance card is embarrassingly empty and I'm simply _dying _to add some names to it."

Yes – I want to go home. Please, let me go home.

"N-no. Sorry. I'm just…tired. I'll just down some coffee. I can work. Sorry."

"One more time."

What? "Sorry?" Hopefully that's what he was looking for.

He nods and rolls his eyes. He then grabs my arm and "assists" me in my journey towards the door of the roof. My head hurts. My nose is cold. I think I need a tissue.

**7 and ½ hours later…**

My shift is officially over. I haven't really talked to Elliot all day. I haven't really talked to anyone all day. Except a little bit with Dr. Cox on the roof. It's even colder now that the sun has gone down. Why did I bring my scooter today? Because I'm moronic.

My cell phone is ringing. It's my brother. I'm nervous - he doesn't call all that often. He tends to carry with him bad news. On the other hand…he might be the only person I could really talk to about…._it_. Maybe I should tell him? He'd probably think I was being irrational and stupid. Besides, saying it out loud could be bad, could make it more….possible.

I sigh, flip open the phone, and sit down on the stone wall outside of the hospital. It's quiet enough out here. I should be able to hear him ok.

"Hey, Dan. What's up?" That's the most normal and casual I've sounded all day.

"Hey, Johnny. Are you at work?"

"Sort of. I'm sitting outside, just got done a double shift. Fun fun." I'm faking a smile and I gave a half hearted arm pump. Not that he can see.

Awkward pause.

"Dan?"

"Yeah?"

"I….I thought I saw him yesterday."

I whispered it. He may not have heard me. I said it. I can't believe I said it. Maybe he didn't hear me. He's not saying anything. This is ridiculous. I know it makes no sense, and now I'm thinking about it. And it's dark and eerie out here and….no cut it out. It's a public place that never closes. People come out here to smoke all the time. Stop shaking you little girl.

"Where?"

Oh, ok. He heard me. But worse than that, he sounds serious. He sounds scared. Like it's a possibility that I could have seen him.

"Supermarket down the road. Check out line. Yesterday afternoon."

Pause.

"Sorry, I know it makes no sense. He's locked up, and it's been fifteen years anyway. I mean, how would I know what he looks like now? I wouldn't! He wouldn't look the same. It's been fifteen years, and who knows what prison can do to a person's appearance in that length of time, ya know? Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn't have said it." I'm rambling, and I can't stop. I'm vaguely aware that I'm talking out in the open and anyone could walk out of the hospital and hear me. That's not good.

"Johnny."

He sounds so serious. Dan never sounds serious.

"Johnny, he's not in prison anymore. He was released. He was released 3 days ago. I just found out."

I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I CAN'T BREATHE!

"Johnny – listen to me. I'm sure it wasn't him. I mean, what are the odds he would move there? Lets just be rational. We can check the Sex Offender Registry. They must have that online or a hotline to call or something, right? Johnny – say something."

I can't breathe. I can't breathe.

The phone clatters to the ground. I'm shaking. I feel like I'm going to be sick. I can hear Dan calling my name faintly from the ground. I know I just need to pull it together and pick up the phone. Let him know I'm ok. I'm ok. I _am_ ok. I'm ok. I just need another minute to sit here, catch my breath, control my heartbeat, stop shaking.

Someone's shoes come into view and I am momentarily seized by complete, mind numbing terror. I gasp harshly, and try to jump back. Only I was sitting at the time and I somehow managed to fall over the rock wall I'm sitting on. More terror, panic. I can't see, I have to get up, I have to be able to see, I have to be able to run.

Someone grabs onto my arm, I'm screaming, I think my heart's going to explode. Dan - Dan might be able to hear me, he can help. He can call someone.

"Dan! DAN!"

The arm lets go, I fall down again. My eyes scan around me frantically. Wait…wait… that can't be right. Turk? It's Turk.

He's holding his arms out like he's approaching a scared maniac or injured wild animal….oh….that's me. I'm the scared maniac. Ok, would it be too weird to make a joke out of it? Could I effectively laugh this off?

"H-hey Turk. I thought..I…didn't mean….sorry." Am I smiling? I can't tell what I'm doing.

"S'ok, man." He looks perplexed.

We both become aware of someone yelling from the cell phone. Turk hesitates and bends down to pick it up. He looks at the name on the display before talking into it.

"Dan?"

I could hear Dan talking on the other end, he sounded frantic, but I couldn't hear what he was saying.

Turk moved the phone away from his ear and look at the phone like it was an alien.

"Woah. Take a breath. He's right here. I just startled him, I think. He didn't see me coming up beside him. Are you ok? You sound way stressed."

Turk listened some more, nodded, and handed the phone to me. My hand is shaking so bad I have to try twice to grab it.

"Hey." I breathe into the phone. Even my voice sounds shaky.

"Jesus, Johnny. You scared the shit out of me. You were _screaming._"

"Sorry." I'm whispering.

"It's ok."

Pause.

"Are you gonna be ok?"

That's quite the question.

"Y-yeah. I'll look…that thing up tomorrow. I know nothing will turn up. It's fine." I glance over at Turk and try to choose my words wisely. The last thing I need is to get him involved and worried for no reason.

"Ok. You're right. Just call if you need anything, ok?"

"Yeah, sure."

"And be careful, ok?"

"Ok."

"I love you."

He loves me? He never says that. No one really ever says that. I want to cry again. I want to go crawl into his bed like I did when I was a kid during thunderstorms. But I can't. I'm a big boy now, and he's not here.

"I love you, too." My voice cracks. A minute ago I felt like I was 3, and now I'm suddenly 13. Well, at least I'm aging. Maybe in a few more minutes I'll be back in the present.

I hang up and stare at the phone for a moment. I need to keep swallowing or I'm afraid I'm going to cry or puke.

Turk nudges my shoulder with his hand. I look up and realize I'm still on the ground.

"You ok, buddy?"

I try to smile. I'm pretty sure it wasn't one of my best or most convincing smiles ever, but I think he buys it anyway.

"Yeah. Just a little jumpy today, I guess. Sorry of I freaked you out. I'm such a spaz."

He smiles and shakes his head. I stand up.

"Oh, man - you should have seen the look on your face. Priceless." He's laughing. I try to laugh with him. It sounds strange to me, but he doesn't seem to be too bothered by it.

He claps me on the shoulder, still laughing and does a little impression of me falling off the wall screaming for Dan. It looks ridiculous.

"Hey, you up for a brewsky?"

No.

"Sure."

Sure? What the hell am I doing? On second thought…I'll be with people, in a relatively well-lit area. We'll all go home at the same time. This might actually be a good idea. Maybe I can loosen up. Forget today, get happy. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe it will bring some good news.


	2. My Best Friend, the Roof

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scrubs or the characters**

**JD's POV**

**The next day, approximately 11:30am**

Good morning. It's about 11:30am and although I don't technically have to be here for another 4 hours, I am presently sitting in the lounge at the hospital. So, you know how yesterday was a pretty sucky day all in all? Well, the evening wasn't a whole lot better.

I got a ride with Turk and Carla to the bar after work last night. I didn't even know what to order, so I ordered a scotch on the rocks. I have no idea why. I hate scotch. It tastes like a stick that had been dipped in rubbing alcohol. Disgusting. But since that was the first thing I spotted while sitting at the bar, it's what I pointed to, and it's what I got.

Todd showed up of course, and then Dr. Cox. Elliot wasn't around last night for some reason. Everyone got a table, but it was kind of crowded so I just sat on a stool nearby. Turk of course proceeded to recount in full, painful detail our odd encounter outside of the hospital. Everyone thought that was pretty hysterical. I tried to laugh along, thinking that would be the best way to handle it. I wonder if I laughed a little too loud and long. People were giving me funny looks, so I just sort of…stopped laughing.

Somewhere in the recounting Turk remembered that when he came up to me I was sitting there looking weird and the phone was on the ground. He sort of stopped laughing at that point and looked really confused. I think that's about when I finished my first glass of the vile liquid and excused myself to get another. Turk met me at the counter and asked me what I was doing when he came up to me earlier.

I had no idea what to say. I could tell I must have looked like a deer in the headlights – wide eyes, mouth slightly open. My brain was scrambling to think of some reasonable explanation. I finally came up with:

"Oh, I uh, was….um….Dan was going off about how mom embarrassed him in front of some girl he liked and I just didn't feel like listening to him, so I put the phone on the ground until he was finished."

I'm pretty sure he bought it. When we got back to the table, Dr. Cox noticed what I was drinking and decided he should make fun of me by saying that I must be trying to be all suave and sophisticated with my scotch on the rocks. Turk added that he happened to know I hated the drink and this induced another lovely round of "make JD feel like an idiot".

I half -heartedly laughed, and then downed the full glass I had just gotten and promptly ordered another. Now, if you recall, I had nothing to eat all day yesterday…or drink for that matter besides some stale coffee. So two glasses of scotch in a short period of time was starting to show their effects. Only they weren't the good kind. I decided to nurse the third glass, which was the best tasting one out of the three.

I managed to make that one last until the ice was nearly melted. Everyone was in a really good mood, and no one seemed to want to leave anytime soon. Except me of course, but my scooter was at the hospital and I didn't think it would have been a good idea for me to drive anyway.

It must have been around midnight when I really just had been there long enough. I had nothing to add to any conversation, besides ammunition against myself. I wasn't laughing at the right times and I was feeling really awkward perched up there on the stool, slightly outside of the group. I brought my empty glass up to the counter and was contemplating whether or not I should have another when someone came up to the bar beside me. I glanced over and was about to smile and say something like "hey", but my eyes couldn't move past the guy's arm.

Whoever it was had on a blue and green checkered flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm, exposing a tattoo on the wrist of a skull surrounded in flames. That tattoo – I had seen it before…I couldn't remember if it had been on the wrist like that, but my mind completely froze at the sight and details like that weren't going to be forming. My breath hitched in my throat and my hands started to shake. I couldn't tear my eyes away from that tattoo. Something inside me was screaming to run, but of course, my legs refused to move. I could feel myself break out into a cold sweat and time seemed to slow down to a crawl.

I don't know how long I sat like that, but I couldn't seem to move or breath until the tattoo removed itself from my sight, and the owner of it placed his hand on my shoulder and asked if I was ok. The voice pulled me from my frozen state. It was all wrong. It's wasn't what I was expecting to hear, so I slowly raised my eyes to see where it came from.

It wasn't him. It wasn't him. It wasn't him.

I was desperately relieved and I laughed this breathy kind of laugh and smiled a really goofy half smile up at the man. But I was still feeling totally numb and couldn't get my vocal chords to work, so I just nodded. He went away after lightly slapping me on my back. Everything sped back up to its normal speed, and all the sounds around me came back into focus. I was aware of the world again. Which meant I was now aware of how nauseous and lightheaded I felt. I shakily made my way to the bathroom and locked myself in one of the stalls.

I dry heaved for a while, a little scotch came up, a little stomach acid…nothing significant. Mostly I just gagged several times. I felt like shit. And I really didn't want to leave that tiny stall and go back out to face my friends, that guy, and everyone else in the bar. I had no idea who had seen me space out. I had no idea how I looked when I walked across the room into the bathroom. I don't know if anyone at my table was trying to talk to me when I walked by, or what.

I wanted to leave, sleep, curl up on my bed with a warm blanket and sleep for 12 hours. I didn't want to be here in a loud bar with happy people and flamey skull tattoos. I thought of tomorrow, and the task I had in front of me. I thought of the short conversation I had with Dan and the implications of that.

Ok, correction, I didn't really think in great depth about any of these things. Really what _was _happening was bits and pieces of all of that were flying through my brain at a dizzying rate. Round and round, all over the place. My head was spinning. I wanted to die, disappear. But since I didn't have the energy or real motivation to actually kill myself, nor did I have the power or resources to disappear, I simply sat there on the toilet with my head in my hands taking deep breaths and trying not to bawl or hyperventilate or scream.

Since my grasp on time has been a little lacking, again I had no idea how long I had been in there. But after a while I had company. It came in the unwelcome form of Todd. He yelled, asking if I was in there. I sighed and reluctantly said "yes" and he rambled on, while using the urinal, about these two hot chicks who had just walked in. He told me that when I came out he'd have rounded them up for us and would be waiting for me at the table. I said "no thanks" but he may not have heard me.

There was a lull after that. I considered whether or not I should go back out there, especially now that someone had located me. I wondered if maybe he would forget to mention it, or if no one would think about it with the reveling taking place out there. After a while I got up the energy and courage to leave my little, safe room. I stopped to wash my hands and splash water on my face. I made the mistake of looking at myself in the mirror.

I looked like utter shit. I was pale and pasty looking. I looked tired and completely lifeless. I looked sick. Seeing that totally took all the drive I had to leave the bathroom away. So instead I sat down on the bench against the wall and shoved my head in my hands. I figured I could get away with staying in there for a few more minutes.

I figured wrong I guess because Dr. Cox was the next visitor I had. He sat down next to me and was quiet for a moment. Actually I had no idea it was him at first since I had decided to ignore the person's presence all together. He sighed really loudly, so I looked up and he had the most strange and uncomfortable look on his face. I waited for him to say something, but when he didn't right away I found myself mumbling, "can I help you"?

"Sorry, Sally, I'm pretty sure there's nothing you could possibly do that could help me."

I just nodded. He looked uncomfortable. Then he told me I looked like shit. I agreed. He told me to lay off the scotch and that they were getting ready to leave so I should get my scrawny butt back out there so Turk and Carla wouldn't leave without me because he most certainly was not taking me home.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. I was pretty quiet the ride back to the apartment. We decided to leave my scooter at the hospital and that I would get a ride to work when we all started our shifts this afternoon. I'm pretty sure I didn't get much sleep. I didn't look much better this morning than I did last night. I didn't feel much better either. Turk got called in for a surgery this morning, so I just came in early with him.

Which brings us up to date. I'm sitting here in the corner, at the computer. I've managed to locate the sex offender registry website about half an hour ago….and I haven't been able to go any farther than that. In just a few clicks I could find out whether or not he is living near me. It would only take a few minutes. My cell phone is sitting next to me and I really want to call Dan just to have someone "with me" when I do this. Someone who knows. I'm afraid to call him, though.

I feel sick. My hands are shaking….again. I keep looking around… anyone could walk up to me at anytime and see what I'm doing. I have no idea what I would say to explain why I'm looking at sex offenders. I decide I should come up with a story ahead of time. I know I'm stalling. And why the hell am I doing this here at work? This is a dumb idea. But, I feel like I'm committed now.

I could say that I have a patient who had been sexually abused and was scared to find out where the perpetrator was now….yeah… that could work. I'm doing this for a patient. No big deal. I can lie convincingly can't I? And really, why is it anyone's damned business anyway? I don't even _have_ to give an explanation. But I know me, and I know that I will feel the need to if it comes to that.

Ok. The longer I sit here, the more likely it is that my privacy will be interrupted. Stop stalling. Just do it. Click one. Scan for state…click two. Scan for city…click three.

Here it is….there are pictures, faces, names, details. It's in alphabetical order. You can click on the first letter of the last name to jump down the page…one more click. That's all it would take. I pick up my cell phone, I put it back down. I scan the room…no one else is in here. I am alone. I am alone. I'm sweating and shaking, and I feel like I'm not breathing very well.

No, I can do this. I should just do this right now and then I'll have about 3 ½ hours to calm down, depending on what I find. Deep breath, JD. You can do this. What's the worst thing that could happen? Ok – not the right question to ask.

Maybe I'm not the best person to be giving myself a pep talk. OK, just do it. GO. I move the cursor to the "D", click. Ok… here I am. I just need to scroll down a little more, a little more and I'll know that it wasn't…..

Wait – there! Stephen Dorian. He's there – that's him! It's him it's him it's him. Oh My GOD! I might be hyperventilating, I don't even…I can't…I….I….

No no no no no no no no no NO NO NO!

Stop, JD. Stop – pay attention….what does it say? It says….. 12 Corner Ave Unit 2d. Corner Ave, where is that? Corner Ave….that's…. that's….I know where that is. That's across town, across town, but it's _this _town. _MY _TOWN! That _could_ have been him….that _might_ have been him that day. Did he see me? Does he know? Is that why he chose to live here? That face…those eyes…I….can't….I….no.

"Marianne, what are you doing here? Your shift doesn't start until 3:30?"

Shit! Dr. Cox is standing behind me, how long has he been standing behind me? Close it – CLOSE IT!

"Checking out the personals? He's cute. There's the age difference to consider, but..."

I'm panicking now and my hands are shaking waaay too much. I can't get the cursor over the little x fast enough. There, there it is – finally – click. Gone. He's gone. My muscles are tingling. My ears are ringing. Bathroom…I need a bathroom. I completely forget about my hastily thought of explanation of what I was looking at. All I can think about is finding a toilet before my stomach erupts.

I push back my chair a little too forcefully and it hits Dr. Cox. I don't have time to say "sorry" or to put the chair back. I don't know if he's talking to me or if he's ok. I make it to the bathroom – only the door is closed. I don't even knock – I just try to open it. It's locked, someone yells "Someone's in here!" I can't think of where the nearest bathroom is. I can't think at all. I can just see his face, and I see those eyes. I'm going to puke.

I

am

going

to

puke.

Ah! Down the hallway, turn the corner, on the left. Right there. Bathroom. Lots of stalls, empty stalls. I find the closest one. I don't even have to time latch the door completely before I'm hovering over the toilet and throwing up. It's all liquid. I still haven't eaten anything. I can't even fathom eating anything. I can't stop puking, even after there's nothing there but burning bile. My legs feel weak. I'm not sure I can stand, but there isn't anywhere to sit. The thought of sitting on the bathroom floor is enough to make me want to puke some more.

Have you ever had the flu and you are so sick that your vision starts narrowing and you feel like jelly, but somehow you are able to stand and move and you are barely aware that you're mechanically going through the motions of washing your hands and placing one foot in front of the other? Well, that's something like what I am experiencing now. Apparently I have more strength left in my legs than I thought because I miraculously am able to walk out, on my own. Not only that – I'm able to walk to the elevator, then down the hall, up a short flight of stairs, and onto the roof. I am Superman. I am amazing.

No, I'm not, actually. I'm out of breath, wheezing, gasping. I'm coughing, crying, shaking. I'm making noises I've never heard before and I feel completely out of control. I make it to the big pipe I hid behind yesterday and collapse. It was a very ungraceful collapse. Not a nice slide down the wall until I lightly come to a rest on the ground, but an awkward bang into the wall and bounce off the ground roughly so that I'll probably have a lovely bruise on my knee and hip later.

After some time, I feel my heart rate slow. My breathing gets more under control. My nose is running, and my body feels simultaneously numb and achy. Weird. I curl myself into a tight ball and just stay like that. Listening to myself breath, feeling the chilled air dry the beads of sweat that had formed on my neck and face.

My eyes are squeezed shut and for a while the darkness is quite welcome. That is until my mind starts to revolt against me and the comforting darkness is replaced by images, suggestions, flashes. They weren't coming in the rapid fire cuts like directors of Indie films like to use. They were uneven, irregular. More like the pulses of light a faulty streetlight creates. An arm, a snear, feet seen through the narrow slit between the edge of the bed and the floor…

It's too much, too much. With a gasp I open my eyes. But no! The images didn't stop! There in front of me is a face_, his_ face! My eyes are open, is this real?

I yell out and jerk myself up and back against the wall. It was far more violent and forceful than I anticipated, and I managed in my terrified spasm to bounce my head off the wall behind me. The blow had a somewhat calming effect. I stop, blink, focus.

I wasn't seeing things, there really is a face in front of me. But it's Dr. Cox. He has the oddest expression on his face. I can't read it. Things are changing so fast in my head I can barely keep up. I have to switch gears. In the space of a second I recall my encounter with Dr. Cox earlier. How much earlier? 10 mintes? 1 hour? I don't know.

I wonder if he's pissed that I hit him with the chair and didn't say anything. Or if he's annoyed that I'm hanging around the hospital unnecessarily. Maybe he finds me suddenly mysterious and disturbed and is here to simply observe me with morbid curiosity.

We stare at each other in silence for a few seconds. I realize I'm holding my breath and it's starting to burn my lungs. I slowly let the air out and I feel my shoulders relax somewhat. My head hurts. Dr. Cox takes my subtle changes in posture as a cue and moves from his crouched position to a sitting one. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

"JD."

Here we go….he called me JD. I think it's serious. Whatever it is he's going to say is going to be serious. I'm so nervous. I feel like I'm waiting for a lecture from my dad. If I only knew what he was going to say, I could possibly think of a rebuttal while he's talking. But I don't. So I can't.

"Now, I don't really know how to do this, and don't think I'm going to make a habit of this or anything, and you sure as hell better not take advantage of this rare and tender moment…"

He's rambling. He looks nervous, too. Oh God. What? WHAT?

"Do you… do you want to...t-talk about what just happened back there?"

Oh…is that it? Is that all? Ok, my turn. Thankfully I have a response previously planned for this, so I'm feeling pretty confident. I'm a horrible liar though…but what reason would he have not to believe me, right? Here goes. Nice and casual, flippant, nonchalant.

"Oh, you mean the computer? Well I had this patient yesterday who had been-"

"No, JD. Not the computer. I don't care what you look at on the internet in your spare time."

He looks pissed. That's more like it. That's the Dr. Cox I know and love. But, wait. He's interrupting my explanation. He doesn't want to hear about that. I find myself at a complete loss and I have absolutely no idea what he's asking about or what I'm supposed to tell him. I am blinking at him with that blank face that always irritates the crap out of him.

"I'm talking about you. I'm talking about the way you've been acting lately. I'm talking about your drama queen exit this morning, and the fact that you are once again hiding out up here on the roof."

I stare blankly some more.

"You still look like shit by the way."

"Thanks."

"Oh, goodie. She can speak! For a moment there, Sandra, I thought you had lost the capacity to form words." He paused, got thoughtful, continued. "I guess I have to cancel my celebratory dance of joy over not hearing you're God-awful ramblings anymore."

An unfamiliar feeling of utter frustration and annoyance builds in the pit of my stomach. What the hell is his problem anyway? Is he trying to be supportive or is he trying to be an ass? In an uncharacteristically bitter and sharp tone I spit out:

"Why are you here?"

Ha! Take that! Answer that beaaatch!

"Ok. You know what? Forget it. I knew this wouldn't work. Do me a favor, Esther, and stay out of my way today, ok? The next time you decide it's appropriate to throw a chair at me and run away, you sure as hell better hope that I don't find you. So, maybe it's time you find a better hiding spot because this one is no longer effective."

He stood up to leave, pointing his finger menacingly in my face. I'm still really pissed, but I flinch anyway. My head lightly brushed the wall when I did, reminding me of the lump that must be forming as we speak. I tried to cover the wince, but I don't think it worked. He's too busy fuming to notice anyway, I'm pretty sure.

I think some kind of witty, hurtful response must have been on the tip of my tongue, but the lump on my head distracted me, and I can't think of anything to say. Dr. Cox is still here, hands on hips, standing so his side is toward me. I think he's trying to decide whether or not to yell at me some more, or just walk away.

I'm losing interest, to be honest. Right now I just want my head to stop hurting. I can't believe that on top of everything else, I freaking gave myself another headache. I don't bother to wait with baited breath to see what he's going to do next. Instead I sigh, close my eyes, and rub my temples. Don't ask me why, it's not like that's going to help, but it's habit. Head hurts - rub temples.

"Here." He barks, and I feel something hit my leg lightly.

It's my cell phone. Oh, yeah, I left it by the computer.

My face falls.

The computer.

"Thanks." I squeak.

The anger has already melted away. Which is really not of the good because that had provided a lovely distraction. It gave me something else to focus on, something else to feel. And now Dr. Cox and whatever the hell kind of dysfunctional conversation we just had is quickly leaving my mind. Now I'm back to feeling lost and anxious.

I pick up the cell phone and stare at it. One missed call. There's a new message. It's from Dan.

Dr. Cox is walking away. There's a void now. The air seems colder, the sun brighter. I squint. Too bright. It's hurting my eyes, and it's making the headache worse. I let out this weird cough-laugh-sob thing. I know it's unlikely up here on the roof, but I swear it echoed. Tumbleweeds may as well have been rolling lazily by. I feel deserted and alone.

I don't quite know what to do with myself, so I listen to my voicemail. Yep, it's Dan. He says he decided to come out for a visit. That's it, just: "Hey, it's Dan. I'm coming out there. I love you." I wonder when he'll be here. I feel relieved. Someone is coming. Help is coming. My big brother is coming. I need him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Thanks for the reviews everyone! I feel so incompetent when it comes to writing Scrubs. I really have no business doing this, but I just decided to go for it. You all are waaay too kind. Thank you!

I've taken the knowledge of 1 reviewer who let me know that JD calls his brother Dan, and his brother calls JD Johnny. Thank you! I shall use that wisely ;)

Also, just as a note, I haven't decided what season this is supposed to be taking place, but...at some point when JD lived with Carla and Turk. He's not dating Elliot. Carla is not pregnant...yeah. So, where ever that leaves us.


	3. My Brother, the Hero

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. So shut up.**

**JD's POV (still)**

**Day 3 of whatever month in whatever year in this fanfic's world's timeline…yeah**

This morning the alarm went off, and guess what was playing. REM's "It's the End of the World" song. Is that really the name of it? I never know actual titles of songs…. Anyway, so I'm going to decide to let that song set the tone for today. And what tone would that be, you ask? Ok, well I haven't fully figured that out, but as of this moment I'm gonna go with: twitchy, hyper, manic, resigned.

Have you ever had a few days in a row when for whatever reason you haven't been able to get much to eat and then you wake up one morning and you feel like you're on a sugar high or caffeine rush? Like your body has reached a point where it has to dip into some secret energy reserve and for half a day you feel like you're set on high speed dubbing.

That is currently what I'm experiencing. In sharp contrast to how I've been feeling for the past two and a half days, I feel like a bundle of nervous energy. I almost feel crazed. I kind of like it. So, I once again pass on breakfast because I really want to keep this thing going. Maybe I can get through work today without feeling like I can barely lift my hand to write on a chart. I'm excited.

I am bouncing around the living room, putting my shoes on. Carla and Turk both look really exhausted and aren't exactly sharing in my bizarre enthusiasm for my new scrubs I am sporting today. It occurs to me that we've hardly spoken for days now and I have no idea what's going on in their lives…of course, chances are nothing is really different. It's only been a few days after all. But then again, these few days for me have been…

Ok, no. I have energy, I am not going to ruin it. There are no guarantees that these moments will last, so, I'm going to revel it in. Cherish it. So I sit on Turk's lap and hug him and I give Carla a big kiss on the cheek. They seem amused by this and so I do a little jig out the door for their viewing pleasure and blow them kisses. Ah, fresh fall air. Crisp and…and…very very cold. Damn. Oh well, it's all right. A nice invigorating ride on my scooter should do well to keep me perky, so off I go.

Here I am at the hospital. There she is - large, bright, and inviting. The janitor isn't even around to torment me this morning. Which I take as a sign that today shall indeed be dandy. And there's Lavern. I kiss her on the cheek as well. She looked at me funny, but that's ok. You know, I think I should adopt a new JD policy. Cheek kissing is such a lovely gesture and not used nearly enough in our closed American culture. I shall henceforth kiss all the ladies in my life on the cheek as my signature greeting. I'll have to think of something else for the men…hmmm.

Dr. Cox is walking towards me. And there it is, that first glimmer of doubt that today will be upbeat and positive through to the end. I open my mouth to say something, but I really have no idea what that something should be. I try to think of a new JD male greeting to try out on him. I don't think my greeting for Turk this morning would be exactly appropriate to use on Dr. Cox…or…most other men I know. There's always the football butt slap, but I think the only person who would enjoy that is Todd, and I really don't want to go there. High fives won't work, and that's already been done.

I am totally drawing a blank, so I think maybe a simple "hi" should be safe. However, when I turn to say, "hi" I find that he's already walking away down the hallway. My perma-grin falters. No, no, that's ok. Dr. Cox would probably just end up saying something sarcastic and rude anyway and I don't really want that do I? So…no problem. I'm here for my patients after all, and I may as well just jump right into that. Here we go, full speed ahead.

**6 Hours Later…**

Lunch break. So far the day hasn't been quite as magnificent as I had hoped. But, the smile is still on, no one has died on me, so…bonus. However, my manic state is not as powerful as it was first thing this morning. Nothing that a little lunch break can't fix, though, right? So, here I am in the cafeteria.

I am hit with the strangest mix of scents. There's that smell of cleaning fluid, that specific sterile smell that all hospitals have. That's the base smell. On top of that is the smell of coffee, which I am standing right next to. Only it doesn't smell like good coffee, it smells like stale, burnt coffee. I'm just going to guess that I'm also smelling potato salad right now, and possibly ham somewhere.

You know what? I really should not have stood here analyzing the scents for this long. I now have absolutely no appetite…oh wait. I haven't had one of those in a couple days, so I guess no harm, no foul. But, I am once again feeling rather nauseous. Which is making me a little less happy. I guess I can't really describe my mood at any given point today as happy anyway. Manic, hyper, goofy… I've been smiling a lot, but I haven't really been happy. I have to admit, I've gotten some satisfaction from the idea that I think for once in my life, I've faked everyone out into thinking that I'm happy. Yea me.

Ok, so upon further reflection, I probably can't even take the credit for putting on a good show. I wasn't really trying to fake anything, anyway. And most likely everyone has just filled in the blanks with their previously obtained knowledge of me. I've always been happy-go-lucky and easy going. So, why would they notice that my smile is reflected in my eyes in a slightly different way, or that my interactions with everyone are a little forced and impersonal? They wouldn't, would they?

"Hey, JD!"

Oh, it's Elliot. I haven't seen her all day. Or yesterday, really.

"Hey."

Oh yeah, my new JD greeting!

I lean over and kiss her cheek and smile. She smiles back, a wide, genuine smile, and links arms with me.

"Oh my gosh I have so much to tell you. But I am sooo hungry. I have to get food NOW or I think I'm going to pass out. I only had an almond poppy seed muffin this morning. And a banana with peanut butter on it. Oh my goodness, the almond poppy seed muffin was SO GOOD! If you have never had one, you have to! You go to that little super market on Sewall St. You know, the one across from Pat's? Can it really be called a super market if it's so small? Maybe it's just called a market. Anyway…"

I am zoning out. It's not because I am uninterested in her food choices for the day, or that it's not good to hear a friendly, cheerful voice in my ear…it's just that I know the place she's talking about. I was just there a few days ago.

I don't feel very good. I can still smell all the strange mixes of smells, and Elliot is dragging me through the food line while she's talking. She's loading her tray with all kinds of odd concoctions and I find myself feeling overwhelmed. I have to keep swallowing.

That fog I've been in the past couple of days is beginning to roll in again. I don't even have a tray, and so I'm not getting any food. I wonder if Elliot notices this as we go through the line. She's really animated about something, but for the life of me I can't seem to focus on her story. I think my grin is dropped away, but I can't really seem to focus on what my face is doing either. I think I just smiled at her. That seemed to be the appropriate thing to do.

"Don't you think so, JD?"

Oh, no. She's asked me something. I have no idea what she was saying….what do I do?

"Um, yes. Absolutely."

She shrieks and gives me a half hug. I must have given the right answer to something. I try to smile.

It's amazing how fast your day can change. This morning, and right up until now I've been running on a seemingly endless energy reserve. Well, here and there I've felt exhaustion trying to creep in, but I was able to push it back out and press on. Now? Now I'm feeling weighted. I look down to make sure I don't have huge iron balls attached to my ankles with thick links of chain. Nope. Of course not. If it wasn't for the subtle swishing of my scrubs fabric I would wonder if I accidentally put on a suit of armor.

Somehow we've made it through the food line and apparently Elliot has found Turk and Carla. I let Elliot slide in the booth, and I sit down next to her. She stopped talking and is looking very excitedly at her food.

"Hey, guys."

Oh yeah, Turk and Carla are sitting in front of me.

"Hey."

Well, that was lame. I scratch my arm idly and look around the room. I feel a familiar anxiety start to form in the pit of my stomach. When I was running around from patient to patient everything was fine. I was in a groove, my own little world where I was in control. All of a sudden I'm in this bright open room with all these chairs and people. I feel naked and ridiculous. My neck feels warm.

"JD, why aren't you eating?" Carla is asking in her best mom voice.

Suddenly everyone is staring at me. Oh crap. This is uncomfortable. As I try to think of a perfect excuse, I notice that Dr. Cox is sitting in front of us. Is he sitting with Ted? That's weird.

"Hey, Dr. Cox is sitting with Ted."

Smooth, changing the subject. Surprisingly that actually works and everyone seems very, very interested in that. Diversionary tactic successful. Nice.

That done, I start to feel a little awkward. I find that once again, here with my closest friends, I am at a total loss as to what to say to them. They are all talking about their day and munching away. I'm having a hard time with eye contact, so I'm looking at their food. Which is making the nausea worse. I think I must be crashing now off of whatever crazy high I was on earlier. My eyes feel warm and heavy. I feel a little unsteady and I'm grateful that I am sitting down. Maybe I should go lie down for my lunch break instead of sitting here feeling like the odd man out.

I can't concentrate on anyone's conversations, again. I run a hand through my hair and hit the spot where I hit my head on the concrete wall on the roof yesterday. I hiss and pull my hand back. Great, now I have a headache forming again. It's like my body forgot that it was supposed to feel like crap until just now. My new scrubs are feeling a little itchy now too. I'm beginning to get irritated. I really should just get up and leave. I don't want to accidentally snap at anyone or ruin everyone's lunch break.

Elliot is telling Carla about her amazing muffin. My face flushes, I want to stand up and yell:

"SHUT UP! I don't care about your stupid muffin. I don't want to hear about the awesome market that you bought it from! I don't want to think about the little bakery section across from the produce, ok!"

But I don't. And I really don't feel very good. And now all of that crap that's been going on these past couple days is re-entering my mind, which I shouldn't be so surprised about, but I am. Don't ask me why I woke up this morning all hyper, and thought that somehow meant that it was over. That I had moved past everything in the night. I am forever amazed at my own idiocy. Right now I'm actually really mad at my idiocy. It would have been so much better to wake up already feeling doomed instead of getting my hopes up like a delusional cheerleader.

"JD, are you alright?"

What? Oh crap. I must be displaying my feeling on my face again.

"Yeah, fine. Great!"

Was that too enthusiastic? Guess not. Turk just started telling Elliot about how zany I was this morning. They're laughing. Elliot touches my arm. I flinch. She doesn't notice.

"I haven't seen you in that good of a mood in a couple days, JD." Carla leans over and pinches my cheek. I flinch. She doesn't notice.

"It's so good to have you back!"

Oh you have got to be kidding me. I know I need to play along. Why couldn't we have had this conversation when I had the energy to play along? I smile. I hope it looked ok. Oh, good – here comes Todd. He's coming over here, looking for a seat. Perfect – my chance to escape.

"What's up my posse?"

Posse? Don't roll your eyes. Don't roll you eyes.

"Hey! Todd!"

Was that too eager? Who cares. I stand up and bow slightly, sweeping my arm out in front of me.

"You may be seated."

Todd grins an impossibly wide grin and sits down.

"Hey, wait. Where are you going? You haven't even eaten yet." Turk sounds distressed. I feel guilty.

"Sorry, I just remembered there's something I have to take care of. I had a big breakfast, I'm all set. See ya!"

I'm so caught up in trying to get away quickly that I don't even catch the gigantic blunder I have just made. There are rules surrounding covering up such things as not eating. One of the most obvious and major rules is: never lie to someone who you live with about whether or not you ate breakfast.

"Whoa, watch it Catherine."

Geeze! I totally didn't see him there. Looks like he's done lunch.

"S-Sorry, Dr. Cox."

I stutter and keep going. If I had been tuning into the conversations around me I would have heard Carla say:

"Turk, did you see JD eat a big breakfast this morning?"

Followed by Turk's response:

"Nope. I didn't see him eat _any_ breakfast this morning. Come to think of it, I don't think he's had breakfast for 3 mornings in a row."

And then Elliot:

"And no lunch today. Actually, I haven't seen him eating lunch either. When was the last time anyone has seen him eat at all?"

And then realistically I probably would have been out of earshot by then anyway and so would not have heard the rest. But as it is, I didn't hear any of it. Nor did I bother to turn around to see Dr. Cox walk by their table at the exact moment this little exchange was taking place, and look up to watch me walk away.

No, the world I am in presently is not in connection to the world around me in any real way, so basically I am completely oblivious to all of this, and everything else.

What I am _not_ oblivious to is the way my body has realized that it hasn't had any nourishment for about 3 days. What I _do _notice is the way my head is pounding and the way the thought of food right now is worse than the weakness the lack of food is giving me.

Ooops, my legs have taken me to the roof again. I don't really know why I'm up here. It's cold. It's bright. I turn around to leave and run straight into Dr. Cox's chest.

"Oommph"

I stumble back and try to will my legs to remain in solid form and not turn into rubber. It works. I bite my lip so I don't blurt out, "The Force is strong within me".

Dr. Cox stares at me for a minute, but of course I can't make eye contact. I stare down at his feet and mumble once again that I'm sorry. Why do I keep running into him! Outwardly, I'm accidentally rolling my eyes because inwardly, I'm disgusted with my constant klutziness. But Dr. Cox might not know that.

"What did I tell you about your new hiding place, Newbie."

I'm not a newbie anymore.

"I was just leaving."

That must be one of the most frequently said lines in movies, and least frequently said in real life. And I just used it. Huh.

"And you thought that you suddenly developed the ability to walk through people?"

No.

"Sorry, didn't know you were there."

Why can't I look up?

"Oh gosh. Have you been crying or something?"

He sounds petrified of the answer, and why the hell is he asking me that? I'm a little stunned, which causes me to look up for the first time.

"No." I feel my face and eyes, just in case. You can't be too careful these days. "Why?"

"Oh, phew! You were looking down. I thought it was either that or you had a putrid growth on your nose that you didn't want anyone to see."

I feel my nose. He rolls his eyes.

"Oh, ok."

Clearly I have no way of responding to any of this. There's an awkward pause and I make a move to leave, just as Dr. Cox decides to speak again.

"You didn't eat lunch."

I stop. My back is almost to him by now, but I'm not completely turned around.

"So."

And I'm 16.

"Why not?"

Because didn't want to, duh!

"I filled up on power bars."

Could be true, he has no way of knowing that's not true.

"Are you sick?"

I can tell he's not sure if he should believe me.

"No."

Pause.

"You look like shit."

Why does he keep freaking saying that? How is that possibly beneficial? I stare at the ground for a minute before deciding that this conversation is really not worth having and I turn to leave. He doesn't stop me. Why the hell do we keep having these horrible conversations that always end with one of us pissed at the other? He's the only person I've said more than a handful of words to in days, besides my patients. I have a feeling that if I tried having conversations with everyone else, the results would be the same. Maybe I should reconsider that avoid everyone policy.

I find myself walking to the doctor's lounge. The cute nurse the janitor tripped me in front the other day is walking out while I'm walking in. I try to smile at her. She doesn't notice, she's looking at a chart. Oh well. Speaking of the janitor, he's in here. He's at the computer.

I think I should get some coffee, try to recharge.

"Hey."

"What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying that because I'm a janitor I have no right to be in the doctor's lounge? Is that it?"

What the hell? I'm just trying to be friendly, geeze.

"N-no. Just saying hi."

Good God. He gives me look of pure hatred and turns back to the computer screen.

Wait – the computer screen! I recognize that page. I blink and take a few steps closer. Oh my God. He is looking at the sex offender registry. He's looking at _him._

"You know computers remember what people have been looking at? I find it fascinating to see what people look at on this thing. I try to guess who's been where. Like the other day someone had been to this website…"

I'm holding my breath, my eyes won't blink. Does he know, has he guessed it was me? Does he know my last name? It's him. He's looking at him. Right there, staring back at me. He won't leave me alone.

I don't notice that someone else came in the room, and is standing several feet away. Not until that someone speaks.

"Oh look, Rebecca. He's checking out your boyfriend. Looks like you've got yourself some competition. A little competition is healthy though, keeps your skills up. Assuming of course that you have skills. Do you have any skills, Rebecca?"

I am in a sheer panic. My brain is rapidly firing off warning signals and I can't seem to react fast enough to any of them. Dr. Cox saw me looking at that screen yesterday, if the janitor is paying attention and can pick up on clues, he'll be able to make the connection that it was me who was looking at this website. And although it doesn't seem like Dr. Cox can tell what he's looking it, the janitor most certainly knows.

It doesn't mean anything. It's ok. Everything ok. JD, listen to yourself. You need to breath. You need to be calm. You need to not freak out. You need to remember the explanation you came up with the other day about why you were looking at that website. Breath. All you need to do is open your mouth and as casually as possible tell them your explanation.

"Well, she is positively green with envy. Ohhh…that's so sweet. Young love is so passionate and pure, don't you think, Rebecca?"

Shit, he was talking when I was supposed to be talking, and now the timing is all off and…I don't know what to do. And I can't even begin to think about what Dr. Cox is saying. He doesn't know, he's kidding. He's just being Dr. Cox. He doesn't know. No one knows.

Oh, no. I've been holding my breath. And now I'm breathing a little too heavily. Everything's misfiring in my head, and I'm a little fuzzy, but I think in between gasps of air I'm trying to talk.

"I – had a…my…there was a….a patient…and she was-"

Oh God this is not working. I must look insane. I need to get a grip. But I can't. I can't. I can't breath and I can't stop staring at that one spot on the computer. I am somewhat aware the janitor has now turned around in his seat and is staring at me. Something in me is screaming at me to get to a chair or couch and sit down – no lie down. I absolutely need to lie down RIGHT NOW! No, no…I need to get to a bathroom. I need to throw up. Again.

"JD? JD. Maybe you should sit down."

Who is that? Must be Dr. Cox. It sounds like there are a million bees in my head. I think I'm sweating. I am so confused. Everything is hazy, I'm so disoriented. I can't really hear anything anymore, but someone is saying my name and it sounds like I'm underwater. In what feels like slow motion I turn and see...

"Dan?"

Man, I sound weird.

Dan's eyes slip from me to the computer screen and they look like they're going to bug out of his head.

"Jesus!" I hear Dan say, although it's quite muted.

Again in slow motion I see him "run" to the computer and close out the window with a very confused janitor looking on. The janitor is standing now. When did he stand up? I can't feel my body. Is that normal?

"JD. I'm so sorry, buddy."

It's Dan. My vision is fading, but I can see he has turned to look at me and seems to be very concerned. I want to say hi, tell him everything's ok, not to worry, it's ok. But, I can't figure out how to get my voice to activate.

Everything shifts and the lights dim and then go out. We have a light dimmer in here? Cool. I am somewhat aware of hands on me, under me. I can hear people saying things…I hear my name. And then I hear nothing. I feel nothing.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Ok. I wrote that so fast it's probably absolute rubbish.

You know how you have something in your head and then when you sit down to type it, your fingers take over completely and it doesn't look quite the same as it did in your head? Yeah... that's happening here. I wonder which version is better. The one you're reading, or the one in my head. Huh.

Thanks for all the votes of confidence! I still feel like everyone else has done glaringly better than me...but oh well. It can't be helped.


	4. My Distaste for Muffins

**Disclaimer: Yep. Still not owning**

**JD's POV**

Can I just stay here forever? It's so comfortable and dark. It's not exactly warm… but there's something warm. Something…what is it? Hmm…my hand. Something warm on my hand...in my hand. Oh, it moved. It squeezed and moved. I think it's another hand. No, no, don't go! That felt nice. Oh, it's gone. I wonder whose hand it was. I'm so tired. Maybe I should just go back to sleep.

"Is he waking up? I think he's waking up."

Who's waking up? Me? But I don't want to wake up.

"Calm down. And don't crowd him."

"Oh, God. Ok…no crowding. I knew I should have gotten here earlier. I should have known that you would take something like this and throw it in his face. I heard what you said."

Wait – what? That's Dan…who is he talking to? What is he talking about?

"Excuse me?"

Dr. Cox. Oh no. No no no no. Why does he insist on pissing off my mentor?

"No, I will not excuse you, you heartless bastard."

Shit, no – abort!

"I knew you were a total ass, but this. This is BEYOND-"

Ok, definitely my cue to wake up. This is not going to end well. What the hell are they fighting about? Ok, you can do this, just open you eyes and say something. Anything.

"Who was holding my hand?"

Hm, ok…that could possibly work. At least they're not yelling at each other. Ah, woah – attention on me. A lot of attention on me. That's a little creepy. Oh, ok, guys. Remember what Dr. Cox said about space? Oh, good God.

The janitor is in here too, but he's sort of standing off to the side. Man he has a funny look on his face. Doesn't he have an intern to torture or a floor that needs to be mopped or something?

"Hey, little brother. How are you feeling?"

"Oh, um. Ok. So, I uh – I don't really remember….w-what's happening? I mean, did I pass out or something?"

I'm laughing nervously. I wish I could stop doing that. Ok, I feel a little funny just lying here when everyone else is standing around, so I think I should sit up.

"Oh, whoa there cowboy."

Dr. Cox just pushed me back down – gently. Weird. Why is he acting so…nice?

"Eep!"

Oh, Lordy. I just "eeped" at Dr. Cox because he reached out to check my pulse. I think I'm blushing now, and he's arching an eyebrow at me. Stupid embarrassment.

"Sorry."

"Shhh."

He keeps checking my vitals. This is so weird. I mean, I've had my vital signs checked before. You always practice that stuff on each other when you're learning how to do them. And then when I had my appendix removed, obviously people had to check my vitals. But for some reason I'm having a really hard time with it right now. Which means, my pulse is probably racing and it's going to throw it all off, but so far Dr. Cox hasn't said anything. In fact - it's waaayyy too quiet in here.

"Ok, Martha. Your vitals are normal. So, wanna tell me why you think you passed out, there?"

"How long was I out?"

"A minute tops."

Oh. Well, that doesn't seem terribly earth shattering. But, hm…ok, what do I tell him?

"Why do you _think_, Coxer?"

Oh, Dan. Don't do that. Why is he sounding so hostile?

"For your information, you beer guzzling waste of space, I-"

"Guys, stop!"

Hey, that worked. I have the power!

"I…I guess it's just from….well, I haven't had much to eat today, and I didn't get very much sleep, so….uh….stress maybe? Nothing out of the ordinary. I'll just go grab a muffin or something. I'll be fine."

I sit up, this time Dr. Cox lets me. Ok, a little dizzy there, but not bad. Nothing I can't push past.

"Tell me what you've eaten today."

I stop and look Dr. Cox in the eye - mistake. Man he looks serious. Is this is his doctor/patient face? I really want to make something up, but he looks like he can see right through me and I'm afraid that a lie would anger him and bring out the beast.

"Nothing."

"Tell me what you ate yesterday."

"Nothing."

Holy cow, his eyes are like a freakin' truth serum. He looks mad. I made him mad.

"Oookkk. Why don't you tell me when the last time was you _did_ have anything to eat?"

Oh, ok…um….hm. Must have been…

"Uh…Monday at lunch?"

I said it as sheepishly as possibly as to not inflict the wrath of Dr. Cox onto myself.

"Newbie, that was 3 days ago. You're telling me you haven't had a bite of food in 3 days?"

I nod and stare down at my hands.

"In Gods' name – WHY NOT!"

He's yelling at me. I flinch like a little girl and sink back into the couch. Dan comes over to sit next to me. He's putting his arm around me. It's so stupid, I know it's him, but I can't stop flinching!

"Johnny. I'm so sorry. I should never have… I mean, I should have come right away. I should never have told you over the phone. That was...dumb. I've never been good at these things, ya know! I don't know why I told you to look-"

Ok, he is saying waaaay too much!

"Dan!" I shake my head at him slowly and subtly. I don't know what else to do! I don't want to make Dr. Cox or the janitor suspicious…although the janitor is probably already suspicious. Damn it…of all people…

Dan blinks at me for a moment before realization floods his face.

"Oh my God. No one?"

I know what he's asking, and I shake my head "no".

"Turk?"

No

"Elliot?"

No.

He sits back with a stunned look on his face. The shock slowly changes into awe and wonder, and then into sadness. I've made my brother sad. I didn't want to make him sad.

Finally he just nods.

"Johnny-"

He's struggling with what to say. I can't blame him. I'm struggling with how to _be_.

"Johnny…you…I" sigh "We'll talk later."

"Well, I'm glad that impressive display of verbal intercourse is over. You need to get something into your stomach, Sherry. Dan – go down to the cafeteria and bring back something for your idiot brother."

Well, that was uncalled for.

Dan looked pissed at Dr. Cox for ordering him around, but got up just the same and left the room. And now it's just me and Dr. Cox….wait. Where did the janitor go? Huh, I didn't see him leave. Oh, well. Dr. Cox is still crouched down in front of me. He looks stressed and irritated. Of course that's pretty much how he always looks, so I guess everything is pretty much normal.

"JD-"

Oh here we go. Lecture time.

"What on God's green earth possessed you to not eat for 3 days?"

I don't know what to say, yet. So instead I look at my hands and say nothing.

"Ok. You're a doctor, right?"

I'm pretty sure that's a rhetorical question.

"Did it ever occur to you that working 40 hours within a 3 day period, I'm guessing barely sleeping judging by those oh so attractive bags under your eyes, and only having coffee and scotch to eat or drink isn't the best way to stay healthy?"

Pause.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why haven't you been taking care of yourself? And please don't mistake this for genuine interest or God forbid _caring. _I'm simply asking because it's kind of my responsibility to make sure that my staff is alert and able to work. So, if you have some kind of girl problem that I wouldn't know anything about, like – your period, or your middle-aged internet boyfriend hasn't shown up for a chat since you sent him that full body nudie shot – you have to either: a) get the hell over it and re-join the land of the living or b) do us all a favor and go home and don't come back until you can get through a full work day without fainting."

Wow.

"JD fainted?"

Oh great. Elliot. That's all I need. Here comes the whole gang and now everyone is going to know that I fainted. I feel like such a weakling. But, at least it provided a nice diversion and I don't have to think of a response to Dr. Cox's tirade.

"What? You fainted?"

I smile sheepishly and stand up to greet Turk, Carla, and Elliot. My legs feel weak. I feel really unsteady on my feet right now. But, I've committed to standing so I think I'm stuck. Maybe if everyone else sits down, I can too. Ok, brace yourself. Here they come.

"Oh, honey. It's because you haven't been eating well, isn't it? We were just saying that we didn't think you had been eating enough lately."

"Hi, Carla. Yeah, I know. I already got the lecture from Dr. Cox." Who by the way stood up when they came in and is looking non-too-pleased at their presence.

Carla is feeling my forehead. I, of course, in my new/old "twitchy JD" fashion, flinched. I really wish I could cut that out. These are my friends! I trust them. I know them. And everyone is moving in - a little too close. I'm starting to panic, but I'm trying desperately to keep it under control. Smile for your adoring audience, JD.

Oh even Turk is doing it. He just hugged me. And right about now I really wish I were still sitting down because my knees are dangerously close to buckling. Ok, slow, steady breathes. Minimal eye contact, they might recognize panic. They can probably smell fear. Should I play dead?

"JD, honey, can I get you anything? Are you sick? What's wrong?"

Wow – ok. Too much worry, too close, too touchy. Elliot is currently pawing at me. I'm not a damned puppy! Ok, breathe…breathe. Carla is having her turn. Why do they keep touching me! My hair, my arms, my forehead, my hands…everything! Ok. I am really not feeling good. Not feeling good. Breathe breathe breathe.

"He looks pale."

"Yeah, he does."

"He doesn't feel like he has a fever, but he looks feverish don't you think?"

"JD, do you have a fever?"

I can't really answer that. I'm too busy trying not to scream at them to stop touching me and to get away from me. I keep slowly shuffling my feet away, but they keep following me. Oops, I've started brushing their hands away, and now that I'm actually doing something about it, it's making the panic worse.

It's like when something spooks you while you're walking down a dark hallway, the minute you actually start to act like something is really there – the minute you start walking fast or running – the fear gets bigger and bigger until you think your heart's going to explode. Yeah, that's what's happening here. The panic is building and building the more I try to get away.

"Oook, people! Give the girl some space!"

Dr. Cox to the rescue! Thank you thank you thank you.

I still don't feel very good. There are far too many things floating around in my head, and I am waay too overly stimulated. Case in point:

Turk: "Oh, sorry man. I can't believe you fainted. What was it like?"

Elliot: "Are you sick? I heard there was a nasty bug going around? Oh, frig – don't breathe on me."

Carla: "Bambi, can I get you anything? Soup or crackers or anything?"

Todd: "Hey! Whatz happenin' up in this mug! High five my man!"

Todd? When did he get here? And no I don't want to high five you. He just grabbed my hand and made me high five him. That was…strange. I feel ill. I think I should sit back down. Where's the couch? My head is swimming. Far too many questions have been asked, and somewhere in the back of my mind I think I still have yet to respond and react to Dr. Cox's little speech earlier.

Dr. Cox appears next to me and quickly leads me to the couch and plunks me down. Again, I silently thank him for knowing enough to find the couch for me. I'm realizing that I am exhausted and all I want to do is sleep. But before that can happen, Dan is back with a tray of food for me. He looks frazzled.

"Ok, little brother. I didn't know what you'd feel up to eating, so I brought kind of a variety. There's orange juice and ginger ale. Chicken soup…um…I don't know what that is, but it smelled good…soo…uh, a fruit cup, jelllloo…mmm…a muffin-"

"Oh! Is that almond poppy seed?"

Oh, Elliot, must you bring that up now?

"Hey, Elliot! Na, it's lemon. Love the hair today by the way – and those nails are _killer_."

"Dan-o! Slap a brother some skin."

Turk and Dan high five.

"Carla, lookin' smoking'. You guys still going strong?"

Dan points from Turk to Carla.

"You know it!" Turk puts one arm around Carla and gives Dan another high five with the other.

"Aww…that's a shame… Just kidding bro'! Work it!"

I am surrounded by idiots.

"Oh lemon poppy seed? JD, don't eat it. I will bring you an almond poppy seed muffin from that market I was telling you about. Oh my God, those things are to die for!"

And there it is. Just the trigger I needed to completely lose my appetite. I am currently staring at the food like it's going to hurt me. I look at my brother who is looking at me so hopefully and expectantly that I feel guilty for not wanting to eat what he brought.

"Thanks, Dan." I whisper and decide to have some ginger ale. Maybe it'll settle my stomach.

Dr. Cox cleared his throat and started for the door. Before he left the room, he turned around and pointed to me.

"You're off for the rest of the day. When's your next shift?"

"Day after tomorrow."

"Ok. I'll see you the day after tomorrow. Don't starve yourself, Princess. That God awful prom dress is really not worth it. Besides, I think Barbie bought one just like it."

It was silent for a minute until Dr. Cox poked his head in the doorway again and barked:

"Ok, kids. She's not going to get any prettier the longer you stare at her, so how's about you all get back to work, hm?"

No one moved for a second.

"NOW!"

There was a brief flurry of activity as Elliot, Carla, and Turk all bustled around, all saying or mouthing their goodbyes and fleeing the room.

Which now left Dan and I in an oddly quiet room.

"You're not going to eat that are you?"

I smiled weakly and shook my head.

"Didn't think so. Sorry, they didn't have much of a selection. Do you want the muffin?"

"No, thanks."

Dan shrugged, snatched it up and devoured it.

"Done and done. Let's get out of here. We need to talk, but first….I think you need to sleep. You look like shit."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

So, I feel I must apologize right here and now. This chapter didn't turn out as I had hoped...so...sorry for any disappointment

Thank you once again to all the reviewers - you are all...insane...in a good way

And to the reviewer who said they were inspired to write a Scrubs fanfic...please do! I would love to see more Srubs fanfic!


	5. My Day Alone

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Stephen Dorian…sort of..ish**

**Still JD's POV**

**Friday morning, about 10:00am.**

I can't believe I'm the first one up. Well, that's not true. Carla got up and went to work. But Turk is off today and he's still sleeping. Dan is on the couch, which makes being awake and moving before anyone else a little difficult. Who knows, though, maybe I'd be doing the exact same thing as I'm doing now if Dan was awake – sitting at the table letting my coffee get cold, trying to psych myself up into eating something for breakfast.

I managed to still not eat anything yesterday. I shouldn't be proud of that fact…but for some reason I am a little bit. Dan practically pushed me into bed when we got home yesterday and that's where I stayed until about an hour ago. Not that I've been sleeping the whole time or anything, but you know how it is. I think I did get a decent amount of sleep finally, so that's good.

Dan just shifted in his sleep. I wonder if he's really awake and just doesn't want to get up so he's faking being asleep. I have a feeling he was so insistent on me getting to sleep right away because he wanted to put off talking about what's going on. And now I feel guilty for thinking that about my brother. Let's face it, though - he's never really been the "let's talk about your feelings" kind of a guy, and he doesn't exactly have the best counseling skills in the universe.

It's 10:00. I sigh and rub my eyes. It's quiet. The kitchen sink faucet is dripping. My stomach just growled. I should eat something. The problem is nothing seems particularly appetizing. I don't think I could handle the smell of eggs cooking right now. Pancakes or French toast would be way too rich. Oatmeal…uck. I can't deal with the texture of that. Maybe cereal. Oh, I don't know. It seems too dry. That's why you put milk in it you nim-rod. Dairy, though? Dairy is rarely good on an upset stomach. Is my stomach upset? I can't tell if it is or if that's just me being really hungry.

Oh – movement! Turk just emerged from his room. He barely looks awake. Normally the very sight of him shuffling through the apartment with his eyes half closed and drool stains on his cheek would totally make my morning…but right now I am fighting the urge to run and hide. I haven't seen him since he came into the doctor's lounge and found out I had passed out. I feel really embarrassed now. Very unmanly. This could be a really awkward day.

Turk mumbled something that could have been "morning", not sure. I just lifted my hand as a greeting and let it fall unceremoniously back onto the table.

"Coffee?"

My first word of the day. Excellent. Turk just grunted in response. I wonder what his first word will be. I'm not sure I can count the indecipherable "morning" or the grunt that I think meant "yes" to coffee. I get up and get Turk a mug of coffee. My stomach just growled again. I wonder if Turk heard that.

"Hey – you eaten breakfast yet?"

Oh, I guess he did hear it. Turk's first word: "Hey". Mine was better. Although, his was closer to a sentence than mine, despite leaving out the word "have".

"No. I haven't decided what I want yet."

"What did you end up eating yesterday?"

Oh shit.

"N-nothing. I drank some ginger ale, but nothing else from the cafeteria seemed appetizing enough. I crashed as soon as I got home, so…."

Turk nodded, he looks thoughtful. That expression just doesn't look right this early in the morning.

"How are you feeling today?"

I don't know.

"Ok, I guess."

"What do you think you could stomach? I mean, are you puke-sick?"

"I'm not sick."

Ooops. I said that way too fast. And now I've taken away the most convenient and easy to understand reason for not eating for 3 days and passing out at work.

Turk just rolled his eyes at me and got up to rummage through the refrigerator. I heard him mumble, "yeah whatever". So…ok… that could work. He probably just thinks I'm trying to be Mr. Tough Guy and am just not admitting to being sick when it's obvious to everyone else that I am. I think I could handle that misconception.

So far this morning has felt very strange. I'm not used to feeling uncomfortable in my own apartment, or with by best friend. I know I should just say something goofy to break the ice or at least ask him how he's doing… but I just think that no matter what I do or say, it's going to sound odd and forced. My stomach is really tight right now with an anxiety I haven't experienced in a long time. I know it's completely irrational, but my body has convinced itself that everyone can take one look at me and know that I am not quite right…damaged in some way. I don't want to be damaged. I don't want people to tip toe around me. So I should just act normal right?

"Try this."

Wow. Turk just made me toast and jam. That was fast. Or maybe I've just been sitting here in my own world for longer than I thought. Why I am being so selfish lately? He made me breakfast. That's so sweet. What have I done for him? Well, I did get his coffee.

"Thanks."

Ok, JD, you really need to at least make an effort to eat what he made you. There you go, small bites…chew them thoroughly, you can do this. It's just food. It's an everyday, necessary activity. You need this.

Turk just gave me a pat on the shoulder. I jumped.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower."

Man, this toast is hard to swallow.

"Ok."

It's just me again. Me and the sound of the shower running. That's actually a really nice sound. Calming…relaxing. I think I'll just sit here with my eyes closed and let that sound wash over me.

"I gotta piss, I'm comin' in!"

Whoa! Holy crap! When did Dan get up? Dan's first words are by far the best today.

Well, so much for my quiet time. Now I'm really nervous. Dan is up, we still haven't had our "talk" yet….what the hell am I going to say? What's he going to say? What are we going to _do_?

"Hey, little brother."

GAH! Why do people keep sneaking up on me?

"Hey."

Another mind blowing greeting by John Dorian.

"Do you always call me little brother because you have to keep reminding yourself of your relationship to me, or to always remind me of my inferior status?"

Where did that come from?

"Yes."

Huh?

"Hey, you got any champagne?"

"I don't think so. And it's 10:30 in the morning."

"If you had champagne, we could have mimosas. Breakfast of champions."

"We don't have any OJ."

"Oh."

Damn, this is awkward.

"Oooh, toast and jam. That's good."

"Oh, yeah. Turk made it for me."

"How many pieces?"

"Two."

"Are you going to eat the other one?"

Oh, I had forgotten I hadn't finished my breakfast. Ok, quick inner struggle. Do I say "yes" and force myself to eat the other slice of toast so I can get people off my back about my eating, or do I say "no" since he's probably only asking because he wants to eat it and wouldn't give me a hard time anyway.

"It's cold."

Dan shrugs and takes it off my plate and eats it. Ok then. I didn't really have to decide. Go me.

"How are you feeling?"

He's talking with his mouth full. I hate that.

"Ok."

And we're back to an awkward silence. At least he's still chewing on his/my toast. He has a distraction. Lucky him. I wish Turk would hurry up and get out of the shower.

"Ahhh….much better."

And Turk is out of the shower. I have complete command over the universe!

"Why, Turkish, did you use the brown sugar coffee body scrub this morning?"

We have brown sugar coffee body scrub?

"You know it! Feel my arm."

Dan is rubbing Turk's arm. Hm…actually he does smell good.

"Tasty."

"So, what do you guys want to do today?"

Nothing. Sleep, zone out, not think.

Dan gives me a sidelong glance before answering Turk. "I don't know…."

"Hey – I heard that there's a fair opening today in the Northland Fairgrounds."

Dan's face lights up at the same time I can feel mine fall. A fair? Are you kidding? The smell of doughboys and French fries everywhere? People all over the place, chaos, crowds, heavy machinery…please no.

"A fair? I am so there. I'll be right back, I'm going to take a quick shower."

Dan just jumped up from the table and charged into the bathroom and slammed the door. I feel like dropping my head onto the table and hitting it numerous times. A fair? I can't possibly handle a fair.

"What about you? You in?"

God, Turk – no! What the hell…

"Um… I don't know…"

"JD. You can't be serious. Fried dough, cotton candy, dippin' dots – come on!"

I can't even look at him…my arm itches. I thought fair season was over? It's freakin' mid-autumn!

"Really? You're actually considering not going?"

Turk just put his hand to my forehead. You guessed it - I jumped.

"You don't feel warm. But, damn – you must be sick if you're turning down the fair."

"Must be."

**11:05pm**

So, today has been pretty much crap. I've spent the whole day alone. Since alonetime is fairly hard to come by around here, that shouldn't have been a problem. Ok, it wasn't really a problem exactly….but it kind of blew.

My brother comes to visit and I somehow convinced myself that he was coming to rescue me. I thought that everything was going to be ok now that he was here. Well, maybe not "ok", but I thought he would be helping me. As much as I was dreading "the talk", and as much as I was dreading dealing with the potential uneasiness that today could have brought being home with Turk and Dan – I guess deep down I just didn't want to be alone.

Turk called about an hour ago. Apparently they went to the hospital after the fair and now everyone's going out to the bar. He didn't even ask me if I wanted to come. He asked how I was feeling and then told me where they were going and that Carla said I should get to bed early. I know that he wasn't trying to make me feel left out. I know he just figured that I wouldn't feel up to going…which of course is true. I hate my brain lately. I hate how everything is making me feel useless and unloved, even though a part of me is arguing against those stupid feelings, trying to rationalize them away.

It's so dark out. Of course it's dark out. It's past 11:00. It's so quiet in here…it's starting to freak me out. All of this alonetime and quiet can be very dangerous when you have a brain that wants to sabotage you at every turn.

I've tried to keep myself busy. Which, considering the state of disarray the apartment had gotten to, wasn't very hard. We've all been so busy, it's hardly surprising. I did the enormous mound of nasty dishes. I did the laundry. I vacuumed and dusted. I cleaned the bathroom. I washed the kitchen floor. I should be feeling good that it was such a productive day. Instead I have that burning feeling of bitterness and anger directed at no one and everyone that I was the one who ended up doing it all.

There was a stupid, selfish war going on in my head. I'm pissed that all these things were left for me to do. Me! The guy who passed out at work yesterday. The guy who feels like he can't function properly due to a paralyzing emotional state. The guy who hasn't been able to sleep well most nights and hasn't been able to eat for several days. Why should I have to do everything around here!

But, at the same time….I feel saddened and guilty for being mad at my roommates and brother. No one asked me to do all these chores. No one expected me to do them. They've been working just as much as I have, none of us have had time to do this.

Oh, wow. I'm crying. I didn't even feel that coming! You know when you get so frustrated and exhausted and the littlest thing will just set you off? I guess nothing in particular set me off, but…here I am. Sitting back at the table where I started the day, with my head in my hands. Crying. It's a quiet cry. I'm not blubbering or wailing or choking. Everything just hurts so damn much. My chest aches…my heart actually aches. How long is it going to be like this? It can't be like this forever, right? It's only been 4 days, but I feel like this is it. I feel like this is who I am now. This is how it's going to be - forever isolated and alone.

I hate crying in front of people, and normally my body flat out refuses to do so…but there's something about sitting at your kitchen table in the dead of night, in a silent empty apartment, crying alone that is simply crushing. I would be horrified if someone came home right now and saw me. Let's face it, I would probably flinch if someone tried to hug me or rub my back. But right now I feel the most lonely I've ever felt. And it's I feel like it's quickly destroying me.

I jump and gasp audibly at the sound of a knock on the door. Instantly the tears stop and instead I'm engulfed in terror. I hear a soft shuffling sound outside the door. Whoever it is knocks again. I'm trembling all over, but I manage to slowly stand up and as soundlessly as possible make my way over to the door. It's unlocked. It's _unlocked!_ If I lock it, they'll know I'm here. If I leave it unlocked the person might just come in.

Stop it JD. People don't just walk in without an invitation. If it's a vampire it would be impossible for him to come in without an invitation, right? You idiot – a vampire? A third knock. A can hear my heart beating wildly in my chest. My mouth is dry. What is wrong with me? I've been home alone at night plenty of times before and have never been this scared of things that go bump in the night…or of people knocking on my door. It could be my elderly neighbor, coming to borrow some sugar or tea. Ohhh…it could be that hot blonde from down the hall, maybe she needs a nice back rub. I could scrub her down with the brown sugar coffee body scrub…heeyyyy.

Knock four. Damn you for interrupting one of my only pleasant daydreams of the week. Stupid vampires. They have no common courtesy.

Would if it's someone else, someone who really needs something? Would if someone is hurt and needs a doctor and knows I could help? Would if it's Elliot and she having some sort of crisis and just needs a friend and I am completely letting her down? So I should open the door. I should just take one more step forward, reach my arm out, and open the door.

I'm not moving.

Ok, I could just call out "who is it?" That's a pretty normal thing to do, right?

I'm not talking.

And the knocking has stopped. I hear footsteps walking away. Ok. You can relax now. I feel my shoulders start to lower.

Wait – footsteps again. They are heading down the hall from the same direction they just left in. Before I know it I'm pouncing forwards and locking the door, and stepping back again. I hope they didn't hear that. I'm frozen in place, just listening to the footsteps grow steadily closer. Maybe they'll just pass by. Do they sound like the same footsteps? I should have paid more attention. Oh, God, they stopped.

They're knocking again. Ok, no big deal. Just ask who it is.

"Who is it?"

I hope I don't sound as scared to everyone else as I do to myself.

There's no answer. I can see the shadows of feet through the crack in the door. I'm trembling again. Why am I being such a baby? Maybe they didn't hear me. I'm about to ask the question again when I hear a familiar clicking sound. I swear my heart stops.

It's the doorknob. Against my will my eyes slowly follow the edge of the door up to the knob. It's moving. Whoever it is out there is trying to open the door! It's locked, it's ok, it's locked. They can't come in. Oh God oh God oh God.

The doorknob stops moving. There's a pause when the only noise is my breath moving in and out unevenly through my nose. And then I hear a strange sound….like a snicker. It sounds deep and throaty. It's coming from the other side of the door, and I can tell it's male. To me, at that moment, that the most horrible, menacing sound I could possibly hear. And then it's gone, and the feet are walking away again, down the hall, and gone.

What was that? Who was that? Suddenly I leap forward again and lock the deadbolt. We never use the deadbolt since no one has a key for it, but I feel a little safer now. A little. Not a lot. I look toward the window and I know that if whoever that was doesn't live in this building then I could probably see them walking out the front door. But I can't seem to walk over there. I'm not convinced I want to know who that was badly enough to go over there. I'm pretty sure that I would be able to sleep a heck of a lot better if I didn't know who that was.

Where is everyone? Shouldn't they be home soon? My feet are moving now, but they're avoiding the windows. Instead they are going to every light switch in the apartment. It's better in the light. I don't want any shadows or darkened doorways. I'm still shaking and I am really, really thirsty. Water. I should drink some water.

I find myself back at the kitchen table. I can tell my eyes are open really wide. My hands are shaking. I'm having a really hard time processing what just happened. My mind keeps whirring around it, but I can't catch hold of any specific thought, it's all moving too fast. My ears are buzzing. It sounds like static and I can picture a circle of blue hazy light surrounding my head. I feel lightheaded. Somewhere faraway is the thought that I've only had a piece of toast with jam on it this morning, and ½ cup of lukewarm coffee. And this water.

My legs don't seem to want to hold my weight, though. So I don't get up to get food. My eyes are starting to dry out, so I let them close. Maybe if I focus on something small, something easy….my breathing. I'll just focus on my breathing until this passes. How long can it take?

"JD!"

W-what? I jump in my seat and my eyes fly open. Did I just doze off sitting down or was I just zoning?

"JD! I can't get the door open!"

"Come on JD, the hallway isn't heated."

Oh – OH! They're back! I forgot I locked the deadbolt and they can't get in.

"Coming!"

In the span of time it takes to walk from the table to the door a million thoughts go through my head and a million expressions fly across my face. They're home! I'm so relieved I start smiling and I feel demented. I'm still all shaky, and combine that with the dementia, I feel like I've taken a pound of speed. But I was crying earlier – is my face still red and blotchy? Are my eyes still bloodshot, 'cause they feel bloodshot. What time is it? When was I crying? How long does it take my face to go back to normal? I don't know! I DON'T KNOW!

By the time I unlock the door and open it I have no idea what look I should have on my face, and I'm pretty sure I ended up just looking like I was caught off guard. Not that it matters, because they all just file in without giving what expression I had on my face at the exact moment of their entry a thought. So, that buys me a few more seconds to figure out how to look normal.

"OH! Finally!" Carla sighs dramatically and flops down on the couch. Looks like she's had a long day. I'm instantly reminded of my inner tirade earlier regarding the chores and how I should have been the last person to do them. And I feel awful. Not that they know what I was thinking earlier, but….I know. And it doesn't feel that great, looking at how tired she is and realizing that she's been gone for over 13 hours.

"Long day at work?" I try to sound casual, yet concerned, but I think I just sounded….tentative.

Carla just threw her head back and glared at me. I guess so. I feel like it's my fault somehow. That maybe if I was there it wouldn't have been as hectic. Oh, give me a beak, it was a scheduled day off, we all need days off. She's worked there for longer than I have anyway. She doesn't need me there.

"I wish you were there, Bambi. Dr. Cox was in rare form today. One more person to absorb some of that would have meant slightly less crap from him for the rest of us. Besides, he likes to single you out."

Oh, so she only needs me there to be a sponge for Dr. Cox's abusive behavior. Well, that's….nice.

I laugh. I'm guessing that's the appropriate thing to do. No sense in bursting into tears and running off to my room, slamming the door behind me. She's not looking at me. She has turned back around and has probably closed her eyes by now anyway, which is a good thing because I just felt the fake smile drop to my feet. I wonder if the laugh sounded as hollow as it felt.

I wanted them all to come home, but now I think I'd prefer to be alone. If this is what the company of other is going to feel like, I'd just assume go without. I don't want to be completely alone, though. I'm glad they're back, and I think it will be so much easier to sleep knowing that there are other people here with me. Come to think of it….I am really tired. I did a lot today. I suddenly feel like I pushed myself a little harder than I should have considering my sad physical state.

"Why was the deadbolt locked?"

"What?"

Turk looks at me like I'm an idiot. "The deadbolt was locked."

"Oh...uh, must have locked it on habit. Sorry."

"JD, we never lock the deadbolt. You can't do something on habit that you never do."

Good point Carla.

"Old habit. From before I lived here. Must have been having a flashback or something." I laugh again, but no one else laughs with me so it just echoes awkwardly through the apartment. I slump my shoulders. I could see Dan's head turn to look at me through the corner of my eye, but I don't feel like looking at him quite yet. I don't think I chose my words very wisely just now.

"And why are all the lights on?"

Damn, Turk. Stop asking questions!

"Ok, I watched Pet Cemetery again and I got scared."

Turk nodded his head in a very "Ah, I knew it" fashion and came over to put his arm around me. I tried not to jump. I maintain that I did not jump, I shrunk away slightly.

"You know what this means...I'm going to have to find a new hiding place for it. I can't believe you found it! Damn. You are _good!_"

Yep, that's me.

"I put it back where I found it. I wasn't going to tell you."

Oh, yeah. Way to cover your tracks, JD. I am getting good at this!

"Ah!" Shit, someone just touched my arm!

"Aww...Bambi's scared. That's so cute!"

Oh, it was Carla. Oops.

"Sorry."

"It's ok, Bambi. Honey, you know you can't watch those movies when you're alone."

I smile at her. I couldn't hold the corners of my mouth up for very long, though. I'm just don't have the energy to smile.

I don't think I want to wait around to hear what everyone else has to say about their day. I know that's horrible and I'm being a bad friend right now. I'll hear about the fair tomorrow. Right now, I think I need to lie down. I have to face Dr. Cox and the rest of Sacred Heart tomorrow. That alone makes me feel so exhausted I could fall asleep standing up. Plus, there is something about being frozen in fear for any length of time that tends to drain you of all energy. And, I just don't feel like playing up my little lie anymore.

"You look so tired. You're eyes are really red, Bambi. I thought you were going to go to bed early? Didn't Turk tell you I told you to go to bed early? Turk – did you tell him?"

"Yeah, baby, I did."

"Yeah, he told me. I was just thinking about heading to bed, anyway….so…. goodnight."

Carla kissed my cheek and gave me a small hug, It look me a second to relax into it, but by then she was already pulling away. Oh well.

"Goodnight, JD."

"Goodnight, Turk."

I catch Dan's eye. He has an odd guarded look on his face. We hold the stare for a little longer than necessary, until finally I turn away.

"Goodnight, Dan."

"Goodnight little brother."


	6. My Long Talk

**Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Scrubs or the characters….good grief**

**JD's POV**

**Saturday, 5:50am**

Ten minutes. Ten minutes before I start my 12 hour shift. I have no idea how I'm going to make it through today. Being a doctor and working crazy hours, often on minimal sleep - these days come around pretty frequently. Somehow your body finds a way to persevere, though. Well, then again…there are always the occasional days that it does shut down and Dr. Cox gets pissed and sends you home and then rubs it in your face for a week that he covered your ass for a couple hours one day. Those are always fun. I already filled my quota of those days for this quarter. Once a quarter. That's typically what you get. And since that was only 2 days ago, I know I can't press my luck and try for an unprecedented second day so close in succession. So…it looks like I'll be hitting the coffee pretty hard today.

I wore my "street clothes" into work today. The reason being: I suffered from an almost laughable bout of paranoia last night that resulted in no sleep and me changing into clothes (complete with jeans, sweatshirt, and sneakers) at about 2:30am just in case I had to book it at a moment's notice. I realize that sounds insane. And that's about how I feel.

Yeah, last night was a blast. I kept thinking I was hearing things. Things like a window sliding open, the lock on the door clicking, squeaking floorboards, etc. I felt like a kid in a thunderstorm, huddled there on my bed with the covers pulled completely over my head. I would have hid under the bed like old times if I could fit under there. Then the sickening thought occurred to me that if someone was in the apartment….someone uninvited…than Dan would be on the frontlines, and he was completely unaware, sleeping there on the couch. And so I kept opening the door to make sure he was still there, still breathing, not being attacked with a samurai sword or chainsaw.

Of course no one was in the apartment after all, and no one was being attacked or maimed. But I couldn't be sure of that, so approximately every half hour I was up doing a sweep of the place, scared out of my mind. I think at one point I realized that I probably should have a weapon just in case, so I grabbed the closest thing to me – a fly swatter that I had left on my bureau a few months ago to kill a pesky fly…I never got that damned fly. It's probably dead somewhere in the apartment…great, we'll have a maggot infestation. UG. Now I feel like rushing home and moving every piece of furniture and all the appliances to find it.

So, here I am. Sitting on the bench in front of my locker with my elbows resting on my knees after changing into the extra pair of scrubs I had in my locker. I didn't feel like taking the time this morning to do anything else but get up from the kitchen table (which is where I finally landed around 4:00am after giving up the hope of getting any sleep) and walking out the door to drive to work. I hope I don't get disgusting bodily fluids on me today since I don't have another pair of scrubs to change into. I guess I could borrow someone else's.

My eyes feel heavy and completely bloodshot from barely blinking most of the night. I guess that's what you get when you allow your mind to play tricks on you all night, causing you to be too afraid to ever close your eyes. My muscles were completely tensed up most of the time too, so they feel taxed and useless. And here I thought that I would be able to sleep ok after everyone got home. Instead it was worse. If it was only me to worry about I would have stayed under the covers and would have eventually passed out from the heat and lack of air in there. But, no. I got to spend the night terrified that whoever it was knocking on the door earlier was coming back to harm or torment us. My own life is one thing, but the thought of Dan, Turk, or Carla being hurt….I can't even begin to think about that.

This is really getting old. I've always had a ton of nervous energy. I've often been told that if I could just harness that, I would be the most productive human being on the face of the planet. So, where did it all go? I'm still nervous as hell, but it's made me exhausted, not energized.

One bonus for today so far: no Janitor torture. Whoo hoo! Don't get me wrong, he is still as bizarre as ever this morning – but instead of tripping me with his mop when I came through the door, or accusing me of stealing his electrical tape - I saw him standing on the roof looking at everyone coming in with binoculars. Maybe he's not a janitor at all, but a secret CIA agent that's been planted in Sacred Heart to monitor terrorist activity or to head-up the government organization that is responsible for the secret mind control agent injected into flu vaccinations like Homer discovered on the Simpsons. You know what…that would explain a lot actually, about the Janitor I mean.

That was an interesting tangent…anyway…back to my semi-reality. I want to tell Dan about last night, about the person at the door. I'm probably just being a paranoid freak like I was after I "went to bed", but…I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't drag him into my delusional world. But, then again…would if I'm not completely delusional, and would if that person at the door was _him_? I think I should tell Dan. We haven't even talked about any of this since he's been here. I guess we haven't really had any alone time, but he didn't have to leave yesterday morning and stay gone all day. We could have talked. Who knows what that would have accomplished, anyway. Maybe nothing. Maybe it would have just meant there would be 2 people wandering around like depressed zombies instead of 1.

Ok, I've been stalling long enough. Time to start my long, horrible day. At least I get to have a long chunk of time when I don't have to be paranoid that someone is sneaking into my apartment while everyone's asleep. At least I'm here, in a well lit, public area for the next 12 hours. I know when I leave here and hop onto that scooter to go home, those ridiculous thoughts will return, but there's no reason why I can't push them away for now.

"Morning, Princess."

Oh, shit! I swear I just jumped 3 feet! I can't help but press a hand to my chest, as if that will keep my heart from exploding out of my ribcage.

"Morning." I breathe the word as soon as I feel like it's safe to attempt speech.

"Oh, did I interrupt your beauty sleep?"

I glance up and give Dr. Cox what I hope is a withering look.

He jumps back and adopts an exaggeratedly horrified expression.

"Holy Moses! I'm so sorry, Princess. Why don't you just get back to that beauty sleep and stay there for the next 72 hours."

I don't feel like thinking of something witty to say or even mumbling a simple "shut up" in reply. So I just rub my hand over my face and stand up. Standing up sucks. I am so tired.

"Rough night?"

I snort. "Yeah."

"What's the matter, did your boyfriend keep you up all night?"

I just stare at him. All of a sudden my mind starts recounting some of the quips that he has come up with over the past couple of days. I know he's referring to Turk. But I can't help but have an instant guttural reaction to his innocent comment. I may have been a bit distracted the past several days, but somewhere my brain had locked away his little remarks and held them until the perfect time to let them free from the vault and pound me to the dirt. And apparently now, at the start of the day, in the locker room, is the perfect time.

And so I stand here, glued in place, staring at Dr. Cox who's standing in front of me waiting for a response. But all I can do is stare as my brain replays horrible sound clips over and over. Dr. Cox saying:

"_Checking out the personals? He's cute. There's the age difference to consider, but..."_

"_Oh look, Rebecca. He's checking out your boyfriend. Looks like you've got yourself some competition…"_

"…_if you have some kind of girl problem that I wouldn't know anything about, like – your period, or your middle-aged internet hasn't shown up for a chat since you sent him that full body nudie shot…"_

All of this flies though my head in a matter of seconds, but it feels like I've been staring at Dr. Cox, hearing his voice in my head for hours. I can taste the bile in my throat.

"Ooookk. See, all this time I thought I was kidding about the boyfriend/girlfriend thing, but…it looks like I just struck a nerve there, Joanne. Please tell me you aren't really dating Turk. Well, actually…if you are than I get to break the news to Carla…"

I stop paying attention. I'm still reeling from my little stroll down memory lane. I'm actually amazed at how all his "jokes" about _him_ being my boyfriend fit so well into his kidding question about my boyfriend keeping me up all night. In one sense I could almost answer "yes" to that question. But all of this just makes me want to yack. I also kind of want to slap him across the face for joking about this…but my rational mind stops me and tells me that he has no idea that his words have been chosen so unfortunately.

I am finally able to break out of the trance I was in, and I swallow back the bile that had risen in my throat. I'm so damned tired and not in the mood. I am so freakin' sick of all of this. I'm sick of Dr. Cox thinking he's being so funny and clever when he's just being an ass. I'm a little angry to tell you the truth, but I don't have the energy to fully lose my temper.

"Yeah, I'm dating Turk." I completely deadpan my response. I think I might have interrupted whatever it was he was saying about being the one to comfort Carla after finding out that her man has been cheating on her with his best friend, but I don't care. He's said quite enough. I turn to leave and Dr. Cox grabs my arm – not hard, but enough to get me to stop. I close my eyes and tilt my head back to wait for whatever it is he's going to say. Not that I want to hear it, of course…

"Hey – seriously….are you ok?"

I slowly lower my head and open my eyes again to look at him. At this point I am so exhausted that I don't care if I look people in the eye and flat out lie. I almost feel rebellious and cocky. Like I could challenge anyone to doubt the truth of my statement with a mere look.

"I'm fine."

I sound lifeless. I feel lifeless. One of the guys on my floor in med school had a really rough year and had a nervous breakdown. I remember before he was sent home to recover, I would pass him in the halls and try to talk to him. He would usually respond to questions and things, but he had what we called "the million mile stare". To this day, it's one of the creepiest things I have ever witnessed. It was like he was looking straight though you, to a point a million miles away. Like he wasn't really there anymore. I imagine I'm feeling a small percentage of what he was feeling. I wonder if I'm giving Dr. Cox the 2 mile stare.

For a split second I feel kind-of good about that. Maybe if I look scary enough I'll get him off my back. But that leaves as quickly as it came, and now I feel guilty and embarrassed about it. I want to fix any sort of crazy impression I may have left on my mentor. I suddenly realize that I really don't want people to think I've lost it. I want them to think I'm ok, not on the brink of insanity. So, I try to recover in these brief moments before Dr. Kelso gets pissed that neither one of us are out on the floor actually working and pages us.

I clear my throat and shift from one foot to the other. Here's where I need to forget my exhaustion and basic lack of ability to fake it and just…well….fake it anyway. Maybe if I act like I feel pretty good I won't feel so hideous. That's what people say right? If you pretend you're happy, eventually you will be? People are dumb.

"I had a good day off. Got to rest up."

A crazed voice in my head is yelling "Lies…LIES!"…it kind of sounds like Vincent Price.

I give Dr. Cox a small smile. He has a funny look on his face – sort of a mix of relieved and approving. A part of me is swelling with pride that he approves of my day off yesterday. Another part of me is feeling guilty for lying, and disheartened that one of the only approving looks I've gotten from him over the years was in response to an outright lie. My mouth still tastes acidy from my own bile. I need to rinse that out and drink something to get rid of that taste.

I know my smile has vacated my face by now, and I probably have some stupid lost puppy dog look in its place. I figure I may as well get out of here before he catches on. He hasn't been acting totally vintage Cox with me lately, either. I'm pretty sure that as much as he tries not to care or notice things about the people around him, he can't help it. He can be a scarily perceptive bastard when he wants to be….errr…when he doesn't want to be, but can't help it because he was just born with that gift. Besides, both of us really should be getting to work.

I clear my throat again, and accidentally grimace when I taste the bile again. I quickly cover the expression with another smile and point awkwardly towards the door, trying to nonverbally tell Dr. Cox that I should be getting to work now.

He knit his eyebrows together and opened his mouth like he's going to say something. He doesn't though. He finally went with the nod and nervous bark-laugh and fell into step behind me. Time to get out of "uncomfortable personal conversation mode" and into "typical doctor" mode. Yeah…maybe I can handle this.

**11:55am**

Ok, I finished up with my last patient before my lunch break. So far, not so bad…considering. No one has thrown up on me, all my patients have had fairly straightforward cases, and I haven't killed anyone. Yea me. The past couple of days the lunch break hasn't been as reviving and relaxed as I would have liked, and my lack of appetite/nausea problems haven't helped matters. Right now, though – I think I would like something tasty to eat. I still can tell I haven't sleep in way too long, but I'm damn hungry and I think I could actually eat this time.

I'm on my way to the lounge when my cell phone rings. I quickly look around for Dr. Cox since he hates it when people talk on their cell phones at work. I'm close enough to the lounge that I can just jog a few steps and duck into the cell phone safe zone. I glance at the phone before answering it and am surprised to see that it's my mom. I've called her several times over the past…well…it's probably been about 6 months since we've talked. I smile and find myself getting a little excited that she's actually calling. I take note that at the moment I have the lounge all to myself, so I can talk freely and not have to worry about annoying anyone.

"Hey, mom!"

There's a pause long enough for me to look at my phone again to make sure it was really mom's phone number. And it was.

"Mom?"

"Oh. Hi."

She sounds disappointed. Was she trying to call someone else? My mom and I aren't exactly close, but even so I feel the beginnings of that heart-sinking feeling you get when someone doesn't really want you around. I ignore the voice in my head that wants to be sarcastic and do the whole, "gee, don't sound so excited to be talking to me" thing.

"Hi! How are you doing? I called a couple weeks ago, did you get my message?"

Another pause. I can feel my throat constricting, and I swallow, trying to make it go away so I won't get that horrible I'm about to cry voice that sounds like a weird mix of Kermit the frog and Chubacca. Not that she'd care anyway.

"Oh, I guess I did. Sorry. I've been….busy."

She doesn't sound in any way happy to be talking to me. Why the hell did she even call then?

"So, what's new? I haven't talked to you in…well, I guess it's been 6 months. I've left messages. How have you been? Are you ok?"

She sighs heavily. I think I can hear her smoking. I wish she would cut that out. I have to fight against the urge to say something about her on again off again habit. Something tells me she wouldn't really appreciate another "smoking is bad for you" lesson from her not-so-favorite son.

"I don't know."

I decide that maybe I should stop pacing back and forth and sit down. So I plunk myself down at the table facing the doorway so I could see if anyone comes in.

"You don't know if you're doing ok? Why is something wrong?"

For a moment I forget my own self-pity that my own mother doesn't seem to care if she ever talks to me or not, and start to panic that she's sick or hurt and has called because she needs help. I can hear her take another drag off her cigarette.

"Mom, come on. Is there something wrong? You're freaking me out."

I tried to laugh a little with that last sentence - make it seem light and casual.

"No, John. Nothing's wrong. I meant I don't know if I got your messages."

"Oh. Well, I left at least 2 on the machine, and a couple times I asked Dan to tell you I called. Maybe he didn't tell you."

I don't even know why I'm bothering. Her apathetic tone tells me she simply doesn't care. I run a hand through my hair and try to ignore the tightening in my throat. If I let this get to me I'm going to have to hide somewhere again because I just might cry.

"Yeah. I guess he may have mentioned it a couple times."

"Oh, well…that's ok. We're talking now, right? So, how's work?"

"Fine."

"How are things with Scott?"

I hope that's the right name. When your mother has been married as many times as mine has it becomes hard to keep track. She takes another drag and laughs bitterly.

"He's a man. How do you think?"

Ouch. I don't know what to say to that.

"We're getting a divorce. He cheated on me."

"Oh, mom. That's horrible. I'm sorry to hear that. How are you holding up?"

Ok, so, I might get frustrated and annoyed with my mom's constant need to have a man in her life. I might not have been the most supportive son in the universe, and I may not have even attended this last wedding, but it still hurts to hear about things like this happening to your own mom. I think I hear her shrug. Is that even possible?

"I'll live."

I guess that's true. I nod. She can't see me. I feel tired again. I've already had 3 cups of coffee, but I think I'll have another one after this.

"Look, John. I was actually calling to see if Dan was around. I can't reach him on his cell phone and he gave me this number as a back-up."

Heart-sink.

"Oh. Is that why you hesitated when I answered? You thought I would be Dan?"

I hope that didn't sound bitter. I don't want to be bitter. I hope it sounded casual, like it's not a big deal, like it's not breaking my heart.

"Yeah. I didn't know this was your number."

She sounds so….indifferent.

"Oh, well I -"

I was about to say that I left this number for her many times, but I decide that it's not worth it. I decide that would only show that it bothered me, and I don't see the point in that. Not anymore. We've been through it before so many times before. Nothing's going to change now. So then why does it always hurt and surprise me when it keeps happening? I must be a glutton for punishment.

"Uh, I'm at work right now, so Dan's not here. I'm not sure what his plans are today. Did he tell you he was staying with me for a few days?"

"Um, yeah, I guess he mentioned that. Sorry I called you at work."

I hear her take another drag.

"So, what are you doing for work, now? Are you still doing something in the hospital?"

Normally I would have gotten excited that she asked me a question about my life. But instead my heart sinks a little more at the obviousness that she hasn't been paying any attention at all to what I've been doing for the last 10 years or so of my life.

"Yeah, mom. I'm actually a doctor, so….yeah."

"Oh yeah? Well, do you like it?"

"I love it."

This conversation is severely lacking. Plus, all it's doing is killing the ok-ish mood I was in before the phone call. I'm about to just end the call (and hopefully my misery) when Dan strolls into the lounge carrying a bag of most likely lunch. I put my hand over the phone and whisper/mouth to Dan that it's mom on the phone for him. He rolls his eyes, but nods to let me know he'll take it.

"Actually, mom, Dan just walked in, so…do you want to talk to him?"

"Yeah."

I clear my throat and swallow – trying to get my throat to stop closing up on me.

"Well, I'll hand the phone to him. I guess I'll talk to you later then…I love y-"

"Ok."

She totally cut off my "I love you". I finish anyway in a whisper as I hand the phone over to Dan. He gives me a look that's kind of a cross between sympathetic toward me and my unhealthy relationship with my mom, and irritated that he has to talk to her now.

So, that was a fabulous segue into my lunch break. I groan and stick my head in my hands for a moment before I have to face the world again. Can my life possibly get any suckier?

"Hey, mom. What's up?"

I put my feet up on the chair in front of me and try to get comfortable while he talks on the phone. I wonder what's in the bag? I turn it around so I can read the label. Ooohhhh Big G's Deli! I hope there's something in there for me. That place rocks. I haven't been there in forever, but their pastrami and turkey on wheat basil bread with asiago cheese, toasted with vidalia onion mustard and topped with dill pickle slices and fresh baby spinach is the bomb! It is, it's actually called the bomb.

"No, it's in the closet. The other closet. The one by the stairs to the basement. Yes, I'm sure. Just look harder."

He glances at me and shifts uncomfortably.

"Oh, yeah? Who?"

His eyes grow wide and he glances at me again and stands up.

"What!"

It was sort of a whisper, but one of those "I'm upset and normally would be raising my voice but I can't because I'm in a public place whispers".

"You can't be serious. Mom, you know…why are you even asking me that? You know perfectly well why I'm here. No! No, it's good you didn't…"

He glances at me and walks a few feet away and starts pacing in front of the windows. But I can still hear him.

"Mom, you know how he would have handled that. So what did you say? Mom – you didn't tell him anything did you? Is that all? I can't believe this. I can't believe you….mom, you know why. How can you keep pretending nothing happened?"

He looks back at me. I try to look away quickly and pretend to be highly engrossed in reading the Big G's bag. There's something unsettling sounding about this conversation even though I'm only hearing half of it. I decide to look around the room in hopes of finding some distraction. I catch a glimpse of the Janitor hanging from the side of a building in a harness, still watching people with binoculars. What the hell is he doing?

"You know what mom, I'm eating lunch with Johnny right now. If you have anything else you need to tell me, please just spit it out. If not, I'm hanging up now. Yes, I'm mad at you. That's – that's your _son_, mom. You're supposed to…ok fine. Are you absolutely sure? Yeah, well, you better be right. Bye."

He didn't say I love you. I always say I love you and yet I'm the cast off son.

He hangs up the phone and stands for a moment with his jaw clenched and his eyes closed. When he finally opens them he sees the janitor out the window, and it looks like he's looking at us through his binoculars. Dan jumps slightly and then turns to me, raises an eyebrow and points out the window with a questioning look on his face. I just shrug.

"That guy is weird."

I smile and nod.

Dan look back at the Janitor and waves cheerily.

"That looks cool, though. I wonder if he'd let me try that."

Dan sits back down. I notice that we're still alone, which is a minor miracle since it is lunchtime after all. I guess everyone went to the cafeteria today. This is the first time I've been alone with Dan since he got here. It's not the ideal time to talk…but, I think I have to just make use of it before someone comes in a takes it away. I have no idea how to start the conversation, though. Maybe I should just tell him about last night. Maybe he'll tell me I'm a paranoid lunatic and be done with it. Here goes…

"Dan can I tell you something?"

He was about to open the Big G's bag. He stops and looks up at me with a leery expression, but nods.

"Ok, I'm probably insane, and I need to you tell me if I am."

I laugh nervously to try to ease the tension. I'm not sure if it worked or not.

"So, you know when you guys got home last night and I had turned all the lights on and locked the deadbolt?"

"Yeah. 'Pet Cemetery' right?"

I laugh. He smiles and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"Um…not exactly."

Dan looks a little nervous.

"I sort of made that up."

"Ok. So….what then?"

"Uh…well… someone knocked on the door while you guys were gone. I know this is stupid, but I was too scared to answer the door. So I ignored the knocks."

"Johnny, you don't always need to just fling open the door to see who it is, you could have asked before opening the door." He's laughing at me. I laugh a little with him.

"I know! But I totally froze. The door was unlocked, and I convinced myself that whoever it was would come barging in and something bad would happen. Crazy, I know. And then they went away."

Dan looks confused and relieved.

"So, that's it? That's what got you so scared you had to turn on all the lights and lock the deadbolt? Ok, Johnny. You're right. You are insane."

I laugh again, that stupid nervous laugh.

"I know!"

The smile falls away and I feel that anxiety creep in. I look at my hands and say softly,

"But then they came back."

Pause

"How do you know it was the same person? Or…persons…"

"Well, I guess I can't know that for certain, but I'm pretty sure. I heard the person's footsteps – one set of footsteps – walk away and then a couple seconds later, come walking back. I swear they were the same sounding footsteps."

"Well, they probably saw the light through the bottom of the door, knew someone was home, and decided to try again."

"Yeah…yeah. That's probably it. But, anyway, so I totally panicked when I heard them coming back down the hall so I quickly locked the door just in case."

Dan rolled his eyes.

"I know - it's stupid! But, Dan…I don't know." I sigh and scratch my head. "I just thought…I mean….would if…"

Dan leaned forward and his expression softened.

"Hey – you can't do that to yourself. You're going to drive yourself crazy."

I suddenly feel really exposed. I can't look him in the eye. I swallow and nod.

"I know," I whisper.

Pause

"Actually, Dan…there's more. The second time I did ask who it was."

"Ah, see. And who was it?"

"I don't know. They didn't answer." I knit by eyebrows together in confusion. And then suddenly I remember something else about that incident. "They didn't answer, but they tried the door. Dan – they tried to open the door! I forgot about that…"

I'm leaning forward and whispering like it's some big conspiracy. Dan looks concerned.

"And then they snickered. Actually, _he _snickered. I could tell it was a man. It was this strange low snicker…and I swear it sounded _evil._ And then he just walked away again."

Dan isn't saying anything.

"And that's when I locked the deadbolt and went around turning all the lights on."

Dan looks nervous for a moment and then leans back heavily in his chair with a grunt.

"Why the hell didn't you say anything before!"

Ooops, he sounds pissed.

"I-I don't know. I felt stupid, like I completely over reacted. So… do you think I over reacted? Do you think I'm insane?"

Please tell me I'm insane. Please tell me I'm insane.

Dan sighed, "Johnny….I don't know."

Not really the answer I was looking for, but…

"Why do you say it like that? Dan….what did mom say?"

I have a really bad feeling about this.

Dan looks me in the eye. And he looks so serious.

"He stopped by the house."

I swallow. Suddenly my scrub top feels really tight around my neck and the room feels warmer.

"What?"

Stupid question. I heard what he said. Do I really want him to repeat it?

"Yeah. The day I left to come out here apparently. She said he was hoping to see us, if you can believe that."

I can feel the blood drain from my face. Dan gets up and sits in the chair next to me and touches my arm.

"Look, mom said she didn't tell him anything about you, or where he could find you. Of course, that's partly due to the fact that she really doesn't know where you are because she's a touch-hole."

Touch-hole?

"But, he was asking?"

I sound like I've been smoking for 48 years.

Dan nodded.

I'm shaking again.

"My God, Dan. Why is this happening? Why is this happening now? I don't….I can't…."

Dan rubs my back and tries to calm me down.

"I don't know, buddy. I don't know. But, we'll figure something out. We always do."

"So, it could have been him. Mom may not have told him anything, but he could have found out somehow. It's pretty easy these days. Or she could be lying. It could have been him at the door last night. He tried to open to door, Dan! Would if I hadn't locked it when I heard him coming back? Did he even know it was me? I mean…15 years….I would think my voice has changed enough, but….God."

I hide my face in my hands. Dan doesn't know what to say. He's just rubbing my back. I can taste bile again.

"I can't do this again Dan."

I'm whispering, and my face in covered…I wonder if he can even hear me.

"We'll get through it, I promise."

"But what does that even mean? We'll get through it, but what will that even look like? I mean…I lived in constant fear for 5 years. And it didn't really end when he was put away."

I take my hands away and look at Dan, finally. He looks lost and scared and sad. Kind of like how I feel. And he looks tired. This has got to be hard on him too. I'm being so selfish, but I can't seem to help it!

"Did you know, I've really only started to feel safe and ok since I started working here? And even then it's been a process - it wasn't overnight. But….just when I think I'll be ok...that I've finally moved past this and gotten comfortable and found a place that didn't make me think of it…of him…all the time. I just…I can't believe this is happening."

I'm crying. I feel like an idiot. I hate crying in front of people, and even though it's just my brother, I still feel like a child. Besides, we're not in the most private place in the universe. I bet the janitor is watching this manly display right now with those damn binoculars. This moment would be a lot worse if Dan wasn't sitting next to me, though. I'm so thankful for that. As it is, I'm still shaking, and crying, and I feel sick.

"Shhh…it's all right."

"How? How is this all right?"

"Ok….bad choice of words. It's not all right…but it will be, right? We…we'll get a restraining order! He won't be able to come near you or touch you ever again! We could force him to leave town."

I laugh bitterly, and you can hear the tears in my throat.

"I don't really know how any of that stuff works…but I'm pretty sure that won't work, Dan."

"Why not?"

"What am I going to use to get a restraining order? Don't you have to have legitimate reason? Proof of something?"

"Good God, Johnny. If anyone has enough reason for a restraining order, it's you! Do I have to remind you of what he did?"

Jesus, no!

"Dan….I know that…but no one _else _does…besides you. I have nothing to show as proof to anyone! I don't even know if there is any documentation anymore. It didn't even go to court. He wasn't put away because of me, remember? And I don't think that they could do anything if I bring a 15-20 year old story to them now, especially since nothing was done about it then."

"We can try anyway. What harm could that do?"

"The harm is having to rehash this. I think it could do _me_ some harm to have to talk about it again, to have to give a perfect stranger those details. I know this sounds stupid, but I really don't know what that would do to me. I've never had to do that, and I haven't uttered one word about it to _anyone _in 15 years! That's the harm."

Dan wrapped his arms around me and held me for a minute. I can't believe I haven't thrown up yet. I still might. I'm making _him_ shake, I'm trembling so violently. It all seems so surreal. Talking like this here with Dan makes it seem a little more real, though. I haven't felt so close to it in so long. And that's what I'm afraid of. The more I talk about it, the more real it will become.

"You don't think it would help to tell people?"

He was whispering, but since he was still hugging me, his mouth was close enough to my ear for me to hear him. He pulled out of the hug as I sat there thinking of what to say. I don't know. It's never worked out to my advantage to tell people before.

"I guess I don't see how that would help. Every other time I-" I had to stop for a moment to compose myself. This crying thing was starting to get in the way of our conversation. "Anytime I've told someone, it always ended up hurting me in the end. And really…that was only mom, dad, and Mrs. Perkins accidentally. You remember how that ended…" I tried to laugh bitterly, but it came out as a gross, wet sounding cough.

"I know…but I just think…I don't know. I'm not sure how to word it, I'm no good at this. Right now, all you have is me to go to about this. And I'm no expert, but I don't think that's enough. You were saying earlier that you were finally feeling safe now that you started working here, right?"

I just nod.

"So, what does that tell you? You've surrounded yourself with good people, good friends who care about you. I think they should know. At least one other person should know. I don't live here, I won't be with you all the time. Johnny, this isn't going to disappear, ever."

I know it's not going to disappear. I've always known that, but a part of me has ignored it and pushed it aside. And so, just hearing that said out loud makes me cry even harder. I haven't cried like this in a long time.

"I'm sorry…that was stupid. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's ok…."

"I guess what I'm trying to tell you is, I think that someone else needs to know. Someone else needs to be able to support you when you need it. I'm only here for 2 more days and then I have to get back to work or they'll fire me. And then what? I need to know that you'll be taken care of. I need you to promise me you'll tell someone. You don't need to sit down and have a 5 hour complete retelling of the whole thing, but someone needs to know _something_ because you can't keep hiding it away inside forever."

I nod again. I know he's right, I know it. When did he get so smart?

"I don't know how you've done it all these years. I really don't. I'm just scared that especially now, if you keep living through this alone and in silence - you're going to break, Johnny. I don't think you're weak. I don't. But I don't think anyone could live like that forever, do you?"

I shrug.

"I have so far."

Dan grabbed my shoulders, "But look at you! Look at what's happened! You're not eating, you're not sleeping, you are a complete wreck and people are going to start to notice that something's not right. You fainted the other day! That was a little noticeable. Scared the hell out of me, I can tell you."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"You can't just keep making stuff up about why you look like you're sick, or why all the lights are on and the deadbolt is locked, or why you can't sleep at night, or why all of a sudden you're more sensitive to touch and flinch every time someone comes near you. Eventually, you're going to slip up, and they aren't going to understand. Not unless you tell them."

Damn it. I know this all makes sense. But it makes me want to die just thinking about telling Turk or Dr. Cox or anyone else. Who would I tell? What would I say? How would they look me? Would my friendships change?

I think the crying is slowing down. I still feel nauseous and unsteady. And my face is burning at the mere thought of someone walking in right now and seeing me like this. How am I supposed to tell someone when most of the time all I want is for everyone to think I'm fine and happy and normal?

"You were up most of the night weren't you?"

How did he know? I hope I didn't keep him up.

"Uh… yeah. I got it in my head that someone was trying to break into the apartment and I had to make sure no one was attacking you guys in your sleep."

It sounded so stupid, even after Dan confirmed that it's possible the guy at the door could have been him after all. Maybe the weight of all of this is just getting to me, but all of a sudden it seemed so ridiculous that I started laughing. Well, laughing and crying at the same time…but mostly laughing.

Dan looked shocked.

"I even got dressed so I could be ready to leave if I had to! What the hell is that?"

I can't stop laughing.

"It doesn't even make sense! I-I carried around a freakin' fly swatter as a weapon!"

My lungs are starting to burn from me laughing so hard.

Dan laughs weakly.

"A fly swatter?"

I nod and rock back and forth, still laughing uncontrollably.

"So stupid…getting dressed in case I had to leave…why would I leave when the reason I was up was because I was scared for you guys, but I would just leave you in there? What an idiot!"

Dan chuckles a little, but pretty much just sits there staring at me and looking a little uncomfortable.

"All night, John?"

I nod again.

"I didn't sleep at all I don't think. I ended up just sitting at the kitchen table from 4:00 until I had to go to work."

I'm still laughing, but I'm starting to quiet down. I don't know why I suddenly found my horrible sleepless night of terror so damn funny. I feel exhausted and manic - I might be losing it. My shoulders shake with laughter a few more times, and then relax. An unsettling quiet settles in around us.

"So, what's in the bag? Anything in there for the J-dog?"

Nice, ignore the most serious and traumatic conversation I've ever had, ask about food, and call yourself the J-dog.

Dan sniffs and gets up to take his former seat across from me. He rubs his hands together and then opens the bag.

"Oohhh yeah. Johnny, my boy, prepare to have your taste buds dazzled and your stomach stretched! For, behold – I bring you…the bomb!"

"SWEET!"

It's amazing how easy it can be to switch gears. One minute I'm crying my eyes out, which gave me a headache and now my eyes feel even more bloodshot and my face feels salty and tight. And the next I'm laughing so hard I think my lungs are going to explode. Now everything is forgotten and we're just 2 brothers getting ready to dig into delicious, gigantic subs from Big G's like it's the biggest event of the day.

It's funny though. Even though I am so worn out, emotionally and physically drained (and it probably shows), even though my life is tilting and spinning so much I feel like I'm completely out of control….right now, in this moment, I feel like it's ok to go back to life as usual. I feel like it's not out of place to suddenly focus on lunch and talk about something mundane and meaningless. In fact, I think I need it. And, I know I need this sandwich. I still feel nauseous, and I have no guarantee that I will be able to keep this thing down, but I have to try. I owe it to Dan and all my friends to keep moving, even when it feels impossible. Dan is right. If I'm going to be able to keep moving, I am going to need some help. And if I don't tell people I need their help…they're not going to know to give it to me.

And I always thought I was the smart one in the family.


	7. My Worst Nightmare

Random author's note: I re-read the last chapter I wrote and noticed that I wrote this horrible sentence: "An unsettling quiet settles in around us." What the hell was that? Way too much settle usage. Yee gads. I just felt like pointing that out. Enjoy my idiocy.

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything….I almost typed I still don't know anything, which is equally true.**

**JD's POV**

**Saturday, 12:40pm**

I am forever amazed at how everything around here seems to happen all at once. Nothing ever trickles down slowly, nothing gradually fades in and out. It's all or nothing. Sometimes I find that refreshing in it's simplicity and predictability. Sometimes I find it overwhelming and suffocating. It just depends on the circumstances, I guess.

A minute ago it was simple and refreshing. Dan and I were just sitting here, all alone in the lounge, eating our sandwiches that he was for once thoughtful enough to get for us. It was just us, the Dorian boys, eating in brotherly, companionable silence….well, not silence exactly. Dan kept smacking and groaning and breathing loudly through his nose while he ate.

A minute ago it was all _nothing_, all at once. It was uncomplicated and unrushed and _easy_. No one to act for, no one to impress, no one to figure out or try and have an intelligent conversation with - just food and my brother and the light coming in through the window.

Ok, so of course there were some other things thrown in there, but you get the point.

So, that was a minute ago. All at once, everyone decides it's time for lunch break. And everyone decides to spend it in here. Why is it that when I want people to be around, I can't find anyone - and when I would rather just have quiet, here comes the whole crew – laughing and talking and high-fiving? I know it's not _really_ like that. I know that's an adolescent thing to think, but there it is.

Carla and Turk stroll in arm and arm, giving each other little pecks on the lips. I wonder what has caused them to be so lovey-dovey today. Elliot skips in behind them all bright eyed and cheery. It's a nice look on her. Behind her come some other folks wandering in and out. It's so busy. Now it's turned into one of those overwhelming and suffocating circumstances. The weird thing is, I think if the room was filled with people I don't know or don't know very well, it wouldn't be so bad. The most overwhelming and suffocating thing about this is that my friends, who I love, are beginning to surround Dan and I.

I swallow and take a deep breath. Here we go.

"Hey guys!"

Man, I sound chipper. Good for me.

"Sup! You want some of this chocolate bear lovin'?"

Turk is standing in front of me, holding his arms out for a hug. He's being rather affectionate today, isn't he? I used to think I could take the credit for turning him into a semi-hugger. It's strange that now I'm the one who doesn't particularly want to touch people. That's not entirely true. It felt nice when Dan was holding me. I still want that, right? Why does that desire to be comforted and touched keep coming and going? Why am I all of a sudden madly inconsistent with this whole physical contact thing? I'm beginning to frustrate myself.

"Heeeyyyy…"

I sound the word out slowly while standing up with my arms open as well, mirroring Turk's stance. And then of course, hug. Ok. That could have looked natural. If I can just get through this without appearing to be out of sorts, than….well, I guess I don't know what happens next.

Everyone is greeting each other and acting so normal. I sit back down and just lean back and watch. You know how when you have a soar throat you can't remember what it's like _not_ to have the soar throat? You watch the people around you eating and drinking and you can't fathom how they can do that without wincing. Likewise when you feel fine, it's hard to fully imagine or remember what it's like to have the soar throat. Well, I guess I'm like the guy with the soar throat and I'm marveling at the ease in which everyone else can function. I guess they don't have soar throats.

"Is the janitor off today? The trash is over flowing the little girls' room." Elliot asks as she slips into a chair next to Dan.

"He's here, Elliot." I point out the window. She looks out the window to see him now once again perched on the roof looking like he's the captain of a ship. She cocks her head and looks confused and then just shakes it off.

Was he always this weird? I wonder what he would have been like as a child.

Someone gives me one of those awkward from behind hugs. It's Carla, I can tell by the curly hair touching my face. I stiffen for some reason, but manage to pat her forearm before she pulls away and takes a seat between Elliot and I.

"Hey, Bambi."

"Hey, Carla." It suddenly occurs to me that she's not supposed to be here. "I thought you were off today."

"I got called in for an 8 hour shift."

"Oh, that stinks."

She shrugs.

"Oh, JD. The apartment looks amazing!"

For a moment I have no idea what she's talking about so I just tilt my head and give her my patented "Whhhaaaa?" look.

"You must have spent all day cleaning."

She gives me a little swat on the knee and then lightly chastises me:

"You were supposed to be resting, sick-boy."

She waggles her finger in my face for a moment. I feel like slapping it away. I think maybe I shouldn't look her in the eye until my temporary irritation goes away. I hate that I'm turning into such a grouch. Maybe I need to steal some mood stabilizers, we have those here somewhere don't we?

Instead I laugh nervously and am about to say something to minimize my cleaning spree when Dr. Cox pokes his head up from the couch and raises his eyebrow at me.

"Woah, how does he do that?" Dan asks no one in particular.

"Do what?" That was Elliot.

"Just pop up out of nowhere like that."

Good question. I've always wanted to know. I think he was imbued with magic at a young age. He's amazing.

"He's omnipresent. Like God or Ed Harris."

Dan and I both nod in agreement.

"Afternoon Coxil!"

I wish Dan wouldn't speak to him. Ever.

Dr. Cox growls at Dan and then fixes his eyes on me and glares. Oh God, what did I do? He stands up and folds his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, Martha. I thought you were supposed to be resting. Did you or did you not tell me this morning that you had, and I quote-"

He uncrosses his arms just long enough to make the quotation sign and continues.

"-a good day off. Got to rest up."

Oh crap. So that's his problem. He heard Carla's comment about me cleaning the apartment. I guess I'm not good at making up believable lies.

"Uh…cleaning is very relaxing?"

Damn, it JD. That was supposed to be a statement, not a question. GAH!

Turk snorted. "Dude. It looked like you washed every dish in the house, did everyone's laundry, went through the bathroom with a toothbrush, vacuumed, dusted, washed floors….even Elliot's mom would have approved. When did you become obsessive compulsive?"

I chance a glance at Dr. Cox, who is raising his arms to the heavens - most likely inquiring about my unending idiocy.

"What? It was a mess! I had free time!"

That's right, be on the defensive.

"I can't believe you didn't feel up to going to the fair with Dan and I, but you somehow had the energy to deep clean our entire apartment. I think something must be seriously wrong. You need to get checked out." Turk shakes and his head and mumbles something about cotton candy vs. ammonia and paradigms shifting

For some reason I feel panic start to form in the pit of my stomach. What did he mean by, "Something must be seriously wrong"? Does he know something? Why would he say that? Ok, calm down. He's not talking about that. He's looking at me…what now?

"What? I'm fine."

Carla puts her hand on my arm. I'm not expecting it since I was looking at Turk at the time. So, of course, I jump and move my arm away. She doesn't even blink or seem to notice that I practically recoiled from her touch.

"JD, you passed out. You're not fine."

Thank you Carla.

"Ok, so maybe I wasn't fine for like, 5 minutes when I passed out. But, I'm not sick. I'm here. I'm fine."

Everyone rolls their eyes. I want to disappear. I know they're all just looking out for me, but I feel like I'm under attack. I feel like the air is too thick in here. I don't want the attention on me anymore. All of a sudden I remember that I had been crying earlier. I want to look in a mirror and see if it's noticeable. No one said anything….would they have said something? Dr. Cox probably would have. He probably would have pointed and laughed and said how much of a girl I was for crying at work.

I glance over at him. He's looking at me. It looks like he's waiting for me to do or say something. He looks like he's trying to drill a hole in my head with his laser eyes. Why would he want to do that? I furrow my eyebrows and gingerly touch my forehead. I can tell I'm staring at him with wide eyes. I hate that I can't stop. I think his eyes are actually starting to turn red, and I'm pretty sure there's a straight line beginning to shoot out from his eyes, just as red as his pupils are now. I am completely mesmerized.

"Dang, JD! You had the bomb for lunch? Whoa – are you gonna finish that?"

It slowly registers that someone is talking to me. I blink and try to will myself to look around to find out who it is, but my head seems to be stuck in this position – facing Dr. Cox.

A hand waves in front of my eyes. I flinch and the spell is broken. Huh. Dr. Cox's eyes aren't red anymore. Where did the laser go?

"Hey, JD. Are you done with your sandwich?"

A blink a few times and look around. My head feels like it's moving too fast. I feel slightly dizzy, like I've had 2 appletinis. I look down at my sandwich, which is ½ eaten, and swivel my head around until my eyes land on Turk who is licking his lips and looking at me very expectantly.

"W-what?"

I wonder if my head looks as wobbly as it feels. Maybe I've finally turned into the bobble head doll I always wanted of myself. I find that amusing and I start to crack a slow smile, but it's interrupted by Turk talking in my ear. Whoa – close talker…a little space please!

"Saaannndwwiiicch." Turk says the word slowly so that I would be able to understand him.

"I-uh, oh. Um, yeah…yeah go ahead. I'm full."

Turk cheers, does a little dance and reaches for the sandwich. He sings something intelligible to it before taking a huge bite. For some reason I can't stand to watch him eat today. Actually I can't seem to stand to watch anyone eat today. A piece of meat falls out of the sandwich onto the table, which Turk happily picks up and tosses in his mouth. I am completely disgusted. All I can think about is what was on that table. What kinds of bacteria hopped onto that piece of meat that he just inhaled without a thought or care? I can feel my face moving into a grossed out sneer. I hope he doesn't notice. I hope no one else notices. Why can't I stop staring? Snap out of it!

My body decides an involuntary shiver/spasm would be just the thing to distract me from Turk's food intake. I don't know what to do right now. How do people know what to do with their arms all the time? I feel fuzzy and confused. I scratch my arm idly. People are talking. I have no idea what they are saying. Why is it that lunch times keep turning out this way?

I look around for a clock. My break must be almost over by now. I don't normally will break time to be done…but I would rather be running around from patient to patient than sitting here feeling exposed and uncomfortable. My eyes feel hot. My stomach feels like lead. Maybe I chose the wrong thing to put into my stomach. I should have had something simple. Something light. I absent-mindedly put my feet up to share the seat of my chair, and hug my knees to my chest. It hurts a little since my stomach is so full, but I don't really mind the discomfort. I sigh and let my head fall onto my knees. This is nice…dark and hidden.

I forget that I never found a clock and I don't know what time it is. I forget that there are people around me. I don't think I've been sitting like this for long before I feel someone put a hand on my shoulder. I felt as though I had been dozing and was jolted awake by something. I gasp, uncurl myself, and jerk back in one ungraceful movement. I hold the breath I had just taken in and look around with wild, wide eyes.

Oh. I'm still here, and so is everyone else. I picture everyone staring at me in stunned silence and can hear a lone cricket chirping away somewhere. Tumble weed rolls by. Then I blink and realize that in fact there are only 3 people looking at me. Carla, Dan, and Dr. Cox. The other 2 are arguing about who knows what. I swallow and laugh. It sounded hallow and heavy as though the sound came out of my mouth and dropped like an anvil onto the floor.

"Sorry." I whisper. I figured it must have been Carla's hand on my shoulder, so I direct the apology at her. She looks confused, and a little weirded out.

"No problem, Bambi."

Awkward pause.

"Uh, JD…are you ok? You don't look so hot."

I knew I looked like crap. Damn. I wish it were socially acceptable for guys to wear makeup as casually as women do. When we look like crap we can't do anything about it! That pisses me off.

I clear my throat and relax back into my seat.

"I um…I'm really tired, I guess."

My eyes flicker over to Turk who has long ago finished the rest of my sandwich. I hope everyone took note that I was in fact eating when they first came in here. For some reason that is very important to me all of a sudden. It would seem like such a waste if I ate all of that and made myself feel nasty only to have it go unnoticed since my eating has been a bit of a hot topic these past few days.

I pat my stomach, exaggerating my movements intentionally.

"After lunch crash," I say with a smile. "Couldn't fit anymore in here if I tried."

"You only had half." Dr. Cox sounded like stone. Why his he looking at me like that?

"Yeah, but did you see the size of that thing? It was like," I hold my hands out to varying widths trying to give the impression of mass. I try to make a goofy face to go with it and laugh, but it all feels strange. Based on the looks that people are giving me it looks strange too.

I let my arms drop and I release a few more awkward chuckles for good measure. I feel stupid and ugly. I feel like I did back then. Carla is looking at me like she can't decide to feel concern and pity, or fear and discomfort. It's happening again, I can feel it. This is how it starts. At first it's a few strange looks, but things go back to normal. But then it grows and grows until no one wants to be near you anymore and everyone goes out of their way to avoid you in the halls and on the bus.

I want to cry. There's a lump forming in my throat and my sinuses are starting to tingle – always a warning sign that tears are close by. A clear my throat and start to fidget. I need to leave. I swear Dr. Cox hasn't stopped looking at me this whole time. And Dan has been keeping a close watch as well. Although both of them have remained curiously quiet.

As I look back over at Dr. Cox, something shifts and clicks into place in my mind. Dr. Cox sat up from the couch. That's how I first saw him. I didn't see him walk in. When did he get to the couch? While my mind was working this out and my stomach wound itself into a tight knot, everyone else moved on from my freakish display a few minutes earlier and are talking amongst themselves. It didn't matter, the only people I can see clearly right now to focus on are Dan and Dr. Cox.

I turn and look at Dan who is looking at me with something unreadable in his eyes. I turn and look at Dr. Cox, who is also looking at me. He's looking at me really intensely. I swallow. My mouth feels dry. My throat feels thick. My neck and cheeks feel hot, but my forehead feels cold. Had he been there the whole time? Did he hear the whole thing?

My ears must be plugged because everyone else sounds low and garbled around me. I don't even realize I'm talking until I'm half way through my sentence.

"Dr. Cox was on the couch."

I said that out loud? Did anyone hear that? I look at Dan again. He's still looking at me. He nods. He heard me.

"W-when? How long?"

Dan doesn't say anything, and he doesn't nod. He just shifts his eyes so they're looking at Dr. Cox. I follow them. Dr. Cox is also still looking at me - straight into me…through me.

"How long were you there?" I can barely hear myself it's so quiet, but he hears me somehow.

His eyes close briefly and when he opens them, they still hold the same intensity as before.

"The whole time."

His voice is low and steady. It's calm, but full of meaning and purpose. I know what he's saying.

"Oh."

I know that Dr. Cox has probably heard the whole horrible conversation and I start to rack my brain to remember what was said.

How much information could he have gathered? What did we say? Were there details given? WHAT! I'm panicking again. My insides feel like they're trembling. A piece of my hair has fallen down so that it's in my line of vision. I can see it moving like it's on vibrate. So I am shaking. And it might be visible too. Now I know I have to leave. I hope no one has been talking to me over the past minute or so, since I haven't been listening. I glance out of the corner of my eye at Carla to see if she has stopped looking at me like I'm in a circle sideshow. She has. She's talking to Elliot.

It must be 1:00 now, right? I can just excuse myself and go back to work. Maybe I'll swing by the bathrooms first. My stomach really doesn't feel right and I really want to see what I look like before seeing patients again, maybe splash some water on my face. Speaking of water, I need a drink. The air is too thick in here. Maybe we need to get someone in here to test the air quality of this place. How crazy is that. Testing air quality in a hospital. No wonder everyone in here is sick. It's a wonder we're not all in those sterile hospital beds considering what we're breathing in. I'm not sure I'm making any sense.

I clear my throat and slowly rise so I'm standing – on shaky legs of course. I see Dan stand up too in my peripheral vision. I reach out and grab my cell phone from off the table and clip it into place on my wait band next to my pager. I don't watch myself do this because I'm afraid to see how badly my hands are shaking. I take a deep breath, which sadly catches in my dry throat, making me cough a few times.

"Whoa, Bambi. Cough into your arm or something would you. You're going to infect everyone. I hope you haven't been coughing on your patients."

I shake my head at Carla, "N-no, it's not contagious. My throat's just dry."

She doesn't look convinced. Does she think I'm an idiot? I'm a doctor for heavens' sake! I know to cover my mouth when I cough. I can tell that I sort of want to be irritated, but the desire to get the hell out of here is outweighing the desire to be a smart ass.

"Have a good rest of your break, guys. I've got to get back to work."

I give a general wave to everyone and a small smile. I turn to leave and can hear various "bye"s directed at me…er…at my back as it were. I keep my head down and my hands stuffed in my pockets as I move down the hallway towards the bathroom. I hope it's empty. I wonder if there's a lock on the door. I would love to have some privacy in there for a few minutes to collect myself before I have to be a competent doctor again.

Somehow I instantly forget to even look for a lock once I'm in the bathroom. Scatterbrained. I do think to take a quick peak under the stalls. No feet. Good. I'm alone.

I close my eyes and let out a long sigh and lean my head against the mirror. When I finally open my eyes and move back so I can see myself I'm mildly shocked. I can't see tear marks on my cheeks anymore, but my eyes are completely bloodshot. Even my eyelids look vein-y and red. I poke lightly at them, amazed at how hideous they look. I have dark shadows under my eyes. I think I might have a skin condition. It looks discolored. It's darker in the creases around my mouth and in the outside corners of my eyes. Maybe it just looks like that because the rest of my face is pale in contrast. I do look sick. My face feels tight and dry. I wonder if I could borrow Carla's face lotion. Maybe she should teach me how to put on cover up.

Looking at myself in the mirror is getting depressing. I lean forward and splash water on my face a few times. It feels nice. I keep my eyes closed as I dry my face off with the rough paper towels. I wonder if Dr. Kelso would let the janitor or whoever orders this stuff get nicer feeling paper towels in here.

I can hear Dr. Cox talking to someone outside the bathroom door. I panic. Oh God, please don't come in, please don't come in. I remember again that he was there when I was talking to Dan. I know I decided that I needed to talk to someone about it, but now that someone accidentally heard us, I guess I don't have to decide who to tell. He knows already. He knows. He KNOWS!

Bile rises in my throat. Nothing will ever be the same now. He'll never see me the same way. It's all over. A cold sweat covers my forehead and neck. I think I'm going to be sick. I almost trip over my own feet as I dive into the nearest stall, slamming the door behind me. My hands are shaking so much that I have a hard time latching the door, which is making my panic worse. I'm taking huge breaths – in through my nose, out through my mouth. My head feels light, and I'm running out of time to get this damn thing latched before I lose my lunch and it goes all over the floor instead of in the toilet. COME ON!

There – latched. Not a moment too soon, and almost a moment too late. I spin around quickly, causing me to temporarily lose my balance so I have to sort of bounce off the wall before positioning myself so I'm aiming in the right spot.

Just as the first stream of bile and sandwich splashes into the toilet I hear the door to the bathroom open and close. Damn it! I try desperately to stop from throwing up some more, but I can't help it. I'm trying to make it as quiet as I can, but it sounds so loud to me that I think there is little hope that whoever just came didn't hear it. Maybe they'll take pity on me and back away and go to another bathroom. Most people would rather have privacy when getting sick, buddy, show some tact!

No such luck. I don't hear the door open and close. I don't hear whoever it is go into a stall. What the hell are they doing? It's like they have become paralyzed by the sound of someone puking. Give me a break, you're in a hospital. Get over it.

Ok, I think I'm finally done. So much for actually eating lunch today. I flush it all down the toilet. I decide to just lean against the wall for a little bit and wait until the person leaves before coming out. I'd rather remain the anonymous puker. But they aren't moving. I peek at the feet. Brown shoes, scrub bottoms, edges of a white coat. It's a doctor anyway. And he's just standing there. I'm getting really tired of standing here and I really want to sit or lay down. But I'm in a bathroom. Maybe I should just suck it up and go out there and find an empty bed somewhere, just for a few minutes. Or maybe I'll just close my eyes as I stand here.

"Newbie. I know it's you in there."

My eyes fly open. Damn it! How is it that he keeps showing up at the wrong times? Oh, yeah. Because that's what he does. Maybe if I stay very still and quiet he'll think he made a mistake and leave.

"You may as well just come out of there because I'm not leaving until you do and I could stand here rather comfortably all day."

Shit. I hesitate for a moment before giving up and shuffling over to the door of the stall and opening it. I keep my head down. I don't want to see him. I don't want him to see me. It suddenly occurs to me that I just threw up and my breath must smell horrid. I'll have to go find some hospital mouthwash. I hate that stuff. It's yellow. Mouthwash should never be yellow. My body gives an involuntary shudder as I slowly walk over to the sink so I can wash my hands and at least rinse out my mouth.

I can see Dr. Cox fold his arms and lean against the counter while I do this. In mid mouth rinse it occurs to me that I might be giving the secret away that I threw up by this action, but I decide he must have heard anyway. Whatever. I'm not going to care. I'm going to be mopey and defiant until he has no choice but to give up any hope of having a conversation with me and leaves me the hell alone. Because that's what I am…alone.

Now that I'm done I don't know what to do with myself. I have a feeling that he wouldn't let me leave if I tried to walk past him and I don't want to have that mellow-dramatic arm grabbing scene unfold in here right now. So instead I stare at my feet and try not to focus on the fact that I really need to lay down.

"Are you ok?" This comes out as a gruff sigh. I feel like shoving him away and yelling at him to leave me alone if having to ask me if I'm ok is so off-putting. Instead I shrug and cross my arms. I feel like I'm 17 and going through a high school rebellious stage.

"You were throwing up." It's a statement. Not a question.

"I thought you said you weren't contagious." He snorts as he says it. He sounds so pompous I want to slap him. I don't know why I'm so irritable and violent lately….in my head anyway.

I glare at him. "I'm not." I say through gritted teeth.

He stares back. "Then why were you throwing up if you're not sick?"

Damn. He's got me there. I glare for another half a second for no apparent reason, then just look down at my feet again and shove my hands into my pockets. Dr. Cox sighs.

"JD."

I'm ignoring him.

"JD, look at me."

My sinuses are tingling again and my eyes are starting to water. Damn it! Why do my tear ducts hate me so much? I swallow and blink a few times, trying to make it go away before looking up at him. But as soon as my eyes meet his it starts again. Any minute I expect to feel hot salty tears streak down my cheeks. But right now, they're just lingering in my eyes, making my vision blurry.

"What?"

I wanted it to sound full of attitude, but my voice cracked mid-word and ruined that.

"I know you have figured out that I was there, that I must have heard."

My throat makes a weird nose and the first tear falls. I'm so ashamed, I can't look at him anymore, so I just duck my head and nod.

"What did you hear?"

Pause.

"Not everything."

My head snaps up. There is hope!

"But enough to know that something is going on with you and that your brother is right."

Pause.

"You don't need to talk to me. Hell – I'd rather you _not_ talk to me."

Oh great. Thanks.

"But, by some random and sick twist of fate I happened to be relaxing on the couch when you two chose that room to have your heart to heart. So, I guess I'm in whether I want to be or not."

I swallow again and look back down. It's hard to look someone in the eye who doesn't really want to help and is only there because they were forced to be. I wish Dan were here. At least I think he wants to help me. Or maybe he's forced to too because he's my brother. That makes me want to cry more, but so far that lone tear has been the only one to escape. Not bad, considering. Still, one tear is more than humiliating when it's in front of Dr. Cox.

I realize that Dr. Cox had stopped talking. I sheepishly look up at him. He looks really uncomfortable, but I swear I see concern in those piercing eyes.

"Are you going to tell me why I found you puking in the bathroom, why you fainted that day, why you lied about the reason you locked the door and turned on all the lights, who you are so afraid of that you stayed up all night, terrified?"

Whoa, slow down!

I open and close my mouth a couple of times. I don't know what to say. I find that I'm way too scared to actually tell him anything. Maybe I should forget fate and choose someone else to tell, but the thought of telling anyone makes my stomach clench. Finally I give up and just shake my head no.

He looks both relieved and disappointed. I hate disappointing people.

"JD. I know that something is going on. Something big. Something from your past. I can tell whatever it is, _whoever_ it is has gotten you scared. I believe you that you're not sick with the flu. I think that you're stressed out to an extreme and dangerous point. You don't have to tell me now, or ever. But you do have to get through this. You have to know that you can trust me. You can trust all of us here. You have to believe that whoever you decide to tell is going to want to help you and not harm you."

He's walking forward slowly. My head is spinning, I can barely believe what I'm hearing. This is Dr. Cox talking? What does this mean? Why is he getting closer? Do I back away? My feet start stumbling back before I even decide that's what I'm going to do. I guess my body wants a safe distance more then my head does. He stops when I move and looks bewildered for a moment. Then he looks sad and….desperate?

"JD, what happened to you? A week ago you were that zany, annoying, perky, eternally optimistic kid that has been following me around for years! And now…JD, I…."

He stops and closes his eyes, shaking his head. I don't know what to say. I begin to think I'll never be that person again. That's a horrible thought, and one that makes me want to just give up completely and just let go.

"DAMN IT!"

Jesus! I jump back, my heart is in my throat. What the hell was that for? I'm shaking harder than I was before and stumble back until my back hits the wall. This is ridiculous. He's just pissed and decided to yell. He does it all the time! Why am I being such a freakin' wimp? I think all these scares are just starting to get to me.

Dr. Cox notices my reaction and takes a few steps toward me.

"I'm sorry."

Oh, that was me. Why am I apologizing?

"For what?"

I guess he can't answer that question for me.

"I don't know." I wish I didn't sound so child-like.

Dr. Cox runs a hand over his face and peers at me over his hand. His jaw is twitching. Did I just piss him off?

"Are you mad at me?" God, I sound like I'm 5 years old.

"What? No! Why I would I be mad at-" He stops and something seems to dawn on him. "Oh. The yelling."

"And the jaw twitching." I just wanted to be helpful.

He raises an eyebrow at me and rubs his jaw for a second. His pager goes off. He groans and looks at it.

"Damn it." This time he said it under his breath instead of yelling it. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. A pager. Something normal, something everyday. Just the sound of it calms me for some reason. This interaction with Dr. Cox is becoming unnerving. The longer we stand here, the more I feel like I desperately want to share with him what's going on – just to have someone else on my side. And the stronger that desire gets, the more panicked I feel about actually saying it out loud – to Dr. Cox.

"Look, I have to go before Bob's head explodes."

I nod.

"Newbie….just think about this. You don't need to tell me. No one can make you tell anybody. But, I heard some things today….and my brain is going to make something up to go with it. I don't know if the truth coming from you would be more manageable than whatever my head will come up with...so…"

I nod again. I hadn't really thought of that. Kind-of puts a whole new spin on it. Damn it. I don't know what to do now.

Dr. Cox starts to walk off. Then turns back around and says, "Go lay down in the on call room for a while. I'll come and get you if I need you." And with that he opens the door, and disappears.

I stand there for a second.

"Oh, and Newbie-"

GAH! Stop doing that!

"I think you're starting to freak your little friends out, so….either tell them or be more careful."

And he's gone again. The air shifts around me as the door closes after him. It feels a little lighter now. Lighter and eerily quiet. I know the bustle and craziness of the hospital is waiting for me out there. I can't wait to lose myself in that…but I think it would be wise to take Dr. Cox up on the offer to close my eyes for a while. A feel a smile spread across my face…Dr. Cox told me to take a nap! He does care, doesn't he? Or maybe he would rather have a functioning doctor working with him than a shaking, exhausted, ghost of a man. Great, now my smile is gone. My brain hates me.

I take a deep breath and head to the door. Chin up JD. You just have to be able to walk to the on call room, and then you can just exist for a while. I think I should be able to manage that. I nod a firm nod, affirming that last thought and swing open the door.

Ah, that's the world I know and love. It's loud, it's busy, it's disorganized, it's….the janitor running past me at full speed. Huh. I don't think I've ever seen him do that. Kind-of comical, really. I hope he trips over his own mop. I'm still standing in the open doorway to the bathroom watching him. At the end of the hall he catches up with Dr. Cox and says something to him. Dr. Cox looks confused and points down the hallway. They both turn and look right at me. Crap. I might have known the janitor was up to something, involving me no less. The janitor gets an alarmed look on his face and says something to Dr. Cox, who also looks alarmed and they both start running down the hallway.

What the hell? Something's going on. I step out into the hallway and turn to look in the other direction. They have to be running towards something, right?

Oops. Bad timing. I'm such a klutz. I managed to walk straight into someone.

"Ooff. Sorry." I laugh as I try to move out of the way, not even looking to see who it was I ran into. I want to see what those guys are running toward.

"Hey!"

I find myself being shoved back into the bathroom. I trip over my own feet and land hard on my butt.

"Wha-"

I freeze. My heart feels like it stopped. I stop breathing.

It's him. It's him standing over me. It's him twisting around and turning the lock on the door. My eyes grow wide and shift from him to the door…so there is a lock on this door.

Wait a minute…I'm locked in. I'm locked in with him!

"No…"

My voice finds a way to work, but it comes out as a breath.

He turns around and looks at me. He looks right at me with that horrible sneer and those horrible eyes. He looks at me and snickers.

"Now, is that anyway to greet your own uncle?"


	8. My Big Decision

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything **

**JD's POV **

**Saturday, 1:43pm **

For one mind-blowingly terrifying moment I was back there, back 10-15 years ago - while I was down there, sprawled out on the floor…vulnerable. And there he was – hovering as always. All it took was that brief minute (that may as well have been an eternity), and I knew that it was over. This world I had created for myself - this safe unsuspecting world without monsters, without scars…this world had been ripped away. It had crumbled before my very eyes and left me in the dark…I mean literally…in the dark.

I've been here before. It's a place I've fled to I can't even count how many times. Sometimes it's not dark. Sometimes there are colors and images. Sometimes there are entire scenes complete with people and sounds. Sometimes, though – when my brain can't rally quick enough to put together a nice little fantasy world for me to hide in – it's just darkness. Later I'll figure out that I retreated into my mind. Later I'll cry with the familiar shame that comes from knowing that I'm the biggest coward ever to crawl the Earth, because I've never been able to handle this. I've never been able to handle anything. So I went away.

It took me exactly 5 seconds to leave. That's got to be some sort of record. I should get bonus points because I've been so out of practice, but I don't think anyone is going to really consider this a reward worthy accomplishment. I don't know how long I've been gone. Of course, when you are just sort of suspended in nothingness like I am, time gets a little lost. Time, senses, memory…it all sort of blurs and fades into vague ideas and hints. It's not half bad – better than the alternative. But then, I'm only guessing since I didn't mentally stick around to find out.

"JD"

I've heard that it's common with people who go through near-death experiences to feel as though they're being called back to life. Some say they heard voices telling them to come back, see someone pointing the way back to their body, or just a strong feeling that it's not their time.

I'm pretty sure I'm not near death, but I think that maybe I have an idea of what those people have experienced. Have you ever wondered though, if you were at the brink of death, but it wasn't your time – who would be the one to call you back? I can't say I have either, but I'm fairly certain I wouldn't have guessed correctly. I would have guessed Turk or that cute nurse I've been meaning to talk to…maybe Chuck Woolery.

"Hey - JD"

There it is again - the voice that has somehow infiltrated my nothingness, the voice that's trying to call me back to reality. At first I didn't know who it belonged to, but some sort of recollection is beginning to form and I'm pretty sure that it won't be long now before it's complete. By then I'm assuming I'll be back in normal time. At least, I'm guessing that's how this works.

"Come on, Newbie."

Ahh, yes. I was right. That _is_ how it works. I'm a little disappointed I didn't get the cute nurse.

"D-Dr. Cox?"

Sadly though, the jolt back to reality isn't nearly as smooth and pleasant as I would have thought or hoped for. It's actually really violent and frightening. Suddenly "waking up" (while standing) to the strangely concerned face of Dr. Cox mere inches from your own is a little startling. More than that, though, is the barrage of sensations that hits your body almost all at once. I can't even begin to inventory them. All I know is, I'm shaking, my muscles are completely tensed up to the point where they might burst, most of my body feels sore and burning, and my mouth tastes disgusting.

"Are you ok? Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?"

I feel like I'm gasping for air, like I've just woken up from one those nightmares where I'm drowning. I'm looking around with what I imagine are wide "caged animal" eyes. Not surprisingly I'm having a hard time focusing on his voice right now. I think I'm looking for something, or someone. Yes, I'm looking for someone.

"Where…is he…am I….what…"

I'm not making any sense. I need to get control. Dr. Cox has his fingers wrapped firmly around my upper arms. I move my head to look at them. His knuckles are white. The skin looks like it's stretched too much. I picture it tearing and bleeding, which makes me shudder. He gives me a harsh shake. It makes my head hurt, but it does the trick – I turn my head so I'm facing him and I look him in the eye.

"JD…Jesus….I was beginning to think…" He shakes his head and continues, "I asked you if you were hurt. Are you hurt anywhere?"

He looks so serious. For a split second I feel like laughing seeing as how I'm standing on my own two feet and he just shook me a little violently for someone who could potentially be injured. But I'm afraid he wouldn't think that was funny, so instead I quickly give a silent assessment of my aches and pains and decide that nothing seems to be broken or displaced.

"No. No, I don't think so."

Dr. Cox removes his hands from my arms, and they feel suddenly light and cold. I absent-mindedly move my hand to touch my arm where one of his hands was. I feel so strange. I feel overloaded with sensory information and numb at the same time... it tingles.

"So, you're ok?"

I don't know what I am exactly, since I've sort of missed some really important pieces like: how long was I alone with _him_ and what happened in that time. I notice that my breath is a little ragged and I wonder if I had been doing anything to cause that earlier… struggling maybe, or….being choked….or yelling.

"I don't know, I think so."

I hate how scared and desperate I sound. I start running my hands over my neck and arms and sides. I don't really know what I'm doing exactly…I guess making sure everything is still there and intact. I stop and let my hands drop to my sides, feeling a little stupid about whatever it is I was just doing.

"Good God, JD. What the hell happened? Who was that? Whoever it was that you were talking about with Dan?"

I swallow hard. The transition from nothingness to reality was really jarring and I'm still struggling with the aftermath. I don't think I'm capable of dealing with a question and answer session right now. But Dr. Cox has that look of pure determination in his eyes, so I think I better answer something.

"That was my uncle."

Keep it simple, JD. Should I tell Dr. Cox that I don't know what happened? What would he say if he knew I "went away"? Oh wait…I'm sort of known for zoning out, maybe he wouldn't be surprised. Hm.

"Your uncle?"

Wow. He looks thoroughly confused.

"Ok…pardon me for a moment but – WHAT THE HELL?!"

I hold my breath and wince. Why does he have to be so angry and loud all the time? My head hurts. I don't know what to say to him. I want to lie down. Didn't he tell me I could lie down earlier? I wonder if he forgot.

"Ok, you know how I told you that you didn't _have _to tell me anything?"

I nod slowly. I know what's coming.

"Well I changed my mind."

Thought so.

"What is going on with your uncle that has gotten you this worked up? Why do you have that creepy haunted look on your face?"

What? Creepy haunted look…what? I slowly bring my hand to my face and touch it, as if feeling my face is going to tell me what I looked like.

Oh, he's waiting for me to say something. What do I tell him? What kind of answers is he looking for? Does he want to know about events leading up to this, or does he want to know what just happened - because I can't provide those answers. Like I said, I'm not sure I'm capable of providing _any _answers.

"W-what do you mean?"

Dr. Cox looks utterly flabbergasted. It's kind of a amusing look on him. Flabbergasted. That's got to be one of the funniest words ever known to man. Flabbergasted. Heh.

"What the hell kind of a question is that?! Damn it, Newbie! What happened in here?"

I wince. He's really loud.

"Just now?"

"YES!"

"I-I don't know."

I stare at my feet and pray that he doesn't go ballistic on me. I'm also starting to get really sick of being in this bathroom. Can you develop claustrophobia for one specific place? I bet you can. I really just want to get out of here. I want to sleep and just forget about everything. Why can't I do that?

I sort of space out a little bit. I think Dr. Cox might be talking to me, but I'm too preoccupied with the all consuming desire to get the hell out of here that I stop paying attention. I wonder how long I've been in here. I should probably make sure I look suitable for public consumption before leaving. Forgetting about Dr. Cox, I turn to look in the mirror.

Wait – that can't be right. That's me? I'm mesmerized by the hallowed out and shadowed face in front of me. Why is my neck red? I swear there are finger marks on my jaw. I slowly turn my head from side to side. God, I look awful.

I feel dizzy all of a sudden - I'm swaying. I have to get out of here.

"I have to get out of here."

I turn to face the door, or at lease that was my intension. My vision is blotchy and I feel disoriented. I try to take a couple steps forward, but my stomach clenches and drops as I feel myself pitching forward. Strong arms come out of nowhere to catch me and hold me up. Oh, yeah. Dr. Cox.

"Whoa there, Newbie."

He's talking much quieter now. That's nice.

We kind of stumble around awkwardly until I'm in an upright position. He's still holding onto me, but his grip has loosened. I wait a second until I'm pretty sure I can stand without assistance. This has got to be one of the most embarrassing days ever.

"Ok. I'm ok."

Dr. Cox nods and lets go. I wobble slightly, but I guess my legs have started working again.

"C-can I go lie down?"

I sound like a kid asking to be excused from the dinner table.

"Yeah. That's probably a good idea."

"Yeah."

Wow, this is awkward.

I move to the door, with Dr. Cox moving along with me. I guess he's afraid I might fall over or something. I'm actually a little relieved that he's there, I still don't fully trust my body. When we get to the door, Dr. Cox opens it for me. In my head flashes an image of Dr. Cox dressed in full armor, bowing before me and throwing his cape over a puddle for me to walk over. I have to bite my lip to keep from saying something about how I thought chivalry was dead. I shake my head to clear the image away and look out into the hallway. My chest instantly constricts with panic at the sight of doctors and nurses bustling around. They're _everywhere!_

Oh God, I can't go out there looking like this! People will see me, they'll know that…I don't know…they'll think _things_. I inhale sharply and take a step back into the bathroom. Dr. Cox stops and turns to look at me with a questioning look in his eyes.

My breathing has gotten weird. How do I explain my sudden fear of hallways to him? First spontaneous claustrophobia and now...is there a word for the fear of hallways? I point a shaky finger toward the doorway.

"There are too many people. I-I don't want them to see…."

I don't know what else to say, so instead I just look down and wait to see what he'll do. I feel so humiliated. When did I turn into such a sniveling moron?

He's silent for a moment. I look up and catch his eye. He nods and says, "Wait here."

Then he disappears out the door. As the door swings to close, I'm positive it sucks all the air and sound out of the room with it. When it clicked shut I am left with this suffocating feeling and irrational panic. I have to remind myself that Dr. Cox is right outside and that it would be stupid to start screaming from the sheer terror of being left alone in a silent, airless room. I hate this bathroom. Maybe it's haunted, like in Harry Potter…

Ok, cut it out. Focus on Dr. Cox's voice. It's not hard, he's so loud! I take a deep breath and listen.

"Listen up you useless maggots! I am in NO MOOD! So if you all value your pathetic, meaningless lives I suggest that you all get the _hell _out of my way. I don't want to hear you, smell, you, and I most certainly do _not _want to _see_ any of you! So, gather up your skirts, grab the kids, and run like hell because I am going to walk down this hallway in 2 seconds and I cannot be held responsible for what damage I will do to anyone who is unfortunate enough stay within…oh….say….350 feet of me! Ok, team – ready….and….MOVE!"

I imagine the sound of millions of tiny feet scurrying and can picture the hallway emptying in a split second, leaving loose papers to slowly drift to the ground. I smile.

The door swings open again and Dr. Cox is there, nodding towards the hallway – a sign that I'm to follow him out there. I swallow, take a few steps forward, and hesitantly peak into the hallway. Wow. He did it. It really is empty.

I smile and look at him with what is most likely a really dorky look of tremendous admiration. He amazes me. He's not looking at me though. He's starting to walk down the hallway - slowly – as though he's making sure he stays close enough to me to…I don't know…protect me? Catch me if I trip or pass out?

I start my journey to the on call room. I feel like I've been trapped in a cave for a week and I'm just now emerging into the sunlight and fresh air for the first time. It's not the best feeling actually. I feel really exposed and vulnerable - like I'm a deer walking through a large open field during hunting season. I fold my arms across my chest and hug them to me. I'm shivering and it's not even cold in here. I don't know if my legs feel like jelly because of over-exertion or lack of use. Or something else entirely different. But they don't feel all that trustworthy.

By the time we make it to the abandoned nurse's station I feel completely wiped out. I want to just get to a bed as fast as possible, but I might not get there on my own if I don't stop for a second.

"Wait-"

I call out to Dr. Cox in a ridiculously breathy voice, and lean against the counter. I wish the chairs were on the other side of the desk. Dang it.

"Sorry…"

I don't know why I'm apologizing.

"It's ok. Take your time."

I have never heard him sound so patient before. I need to write this down so I'll remember it later when he's back to humiliating and emasculating me. Ok, I'm too tired to look for a pen and paper…I'll write it down later. I push off the counter and start walking again. I hate how shaky my legs feel. I went hiking with this girl once to impress her. She had hiked the entire Appalachian Trail three times by the time she was 21. I really wanted her to like me, so I lied and told her I loved hiking, too.

If I had a soundtrack to my life, the Lemonheads "The Outdoor Type" song would be playing right now. Ah, Evan Dando...you sing directly to my soul.

Anyway, we went on what she promised would be a good "start of the season hike". The first ¼ mile was a steep set of stairs build into the side of the mountain, and the other 2 miles were ledges we had to clamor over and ladders going up perfectly vertically. On the way down, by the time I got to the bottom of those stairs I felt like all my nerve endings in my legs had been severed and I thought that every time I took a step they would collapse under me. They actually did collapse, right when we got the car. She didn't speak to me the entire 4 hour ride home in the car, which she ended up having to drive even though it was a standard and she had never driven a standard before. She dumped me the next day.

Oh, hey – we made it to the on call room. Dr. Cox is making sure no one is in there. I can't believe he's being so nice to me. The bottom is going to drop out I just know it. There's got to be a catch. What is he up to? Ok, stop it! Stupid paranoia. Just don't ask questions and say thank you.

"Uh…thanks."

I sink down onto the bed.

Dr. Cox stands in the doorway and stares at me.

"Just….get some rest."

He waits until I lie down before shutting the door.

I sigh and close my eyes. I must have been thoroughly exhausted because I slipped into sleep nearly the moment I closed my eyes.

**3 hours and 45 minutes later, 6:00pm **

"_No…."_

"_Now, is that any way to greet your own uncle?"_

_I scoot back away from him, still on the floor. I can't move fast enough. A sick sneer pulls at the corner of his mouth. I blink and in an instant the sneer is gone and replaced with a grimace. I look into his eyes – they are filled with a crazed anger that sends shivers through me, I can feel the hair on the back of my neck standing on end._

_In a flash his hands are on the front of my shirt. He hauls me up from the ground like a rag doll and slams me into the wall. My head bounces off the wall so hard my teeth rattle. I wince and close my eyes, waiting for the pain to subside. His nose is touching my cheek. I can feel his breath on my neck. It smells like cheap beer and stale cigarettes making bile rise in my throat. I swallow it back down._

"_Aren't you gonna say hello?" He hisses in my face, pulling me back from the wall slightly before slamming be back into it. I clench my jaw and remain silent._

"_No? Don't you think that's a little rude? I've been locked up for 15 years and I have better manners than that, come on now, Johnny."_

_He kisses my jaw and steps back, letting go of my shirt._

"_Well, look at you. All grown up. Still got that little boy charm, though, don't ya?"_

_He laughs and walks closer again, grabbing my arms and holding them up. I can feel his eyes traveling up and down my body. _

"_Let's just see here."_

_He starts to paw at me, pulling at my scrubs. Every time I try to move his hands away, he shifts them somewhere else, always touching, prying. I want to die. I want to scream and cry, but I can't do anything._

"_Stop."_

_Oh, no. Why did I say that? I forgot talking is against the rules._

_He grabs my face, his hand squeezing my jaw so hard I'm surprised it doesn't crumble._

"_Who said you could talk?"_

_I shut my eyes tightly. He's tracing my lips with his finger. His other hand is on my stomach, pushing me into the wall as far as I could go…it hurts._

"_Shhhhh."_

_I can feel his breath move my eyelashes._

"_Be a good boy, now, Johnny. Remember what I told you before? Don't think I haven't forgotten."_

"_No…."_

"Johnny – wake up."

"No, please!"

I wake up with a start. Where am I? What's going on? Where is he?

"Johnny, calm down, it's me."

It's Dan. I relax back down onto the hard hospital mattress and throw an arm over my face.

I feel the mattress dip and bounce. He must have sat down.

"You were dreaming. You were whimpering in your sleep."

I don't say anything, I don't think there's really any need to. He must have been told by now that our uncle was here.

"I talked to Dr. Cox. He told me what happened."

I swallow. I would have guessed that, but I still find myself feeling like I'm on the verge of tears.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So, what did he say happened?"

"He said that he was here. That he shoved you in the bathroom and locked the door."

I still don't say anything.

"He came out just as the janitor was about to unlock the door, pushed Dr. Cox and the janitor out of the way, and bolted."

I'm still fuzzy from just waking up. There's a memory of a dream clinging to the edges of my consciousness. Was that a dream or a memory trapped in by head?

"You really baffled Cox-er, ya know. He said you wouldn't tell him anything."

I shook my head. Still trying to put the pieces together.

"I'm so sorry, little brother."

That tone, that wasn't a tone of general sorrow for a broken life. That was a tone that said he had something specific to be sorry for.

"Sorry for what?"

I take my arm down and look at him. He won't look me in the eye.

"I told him."

My throat is dry. It tastes like acid.

"Told who?"

"Dr. Cox."

I threw up earlier. I remember now. I never did get that mouthwash. I really want to brush my teeth.

"You told Dr. Cox what?"

Stupid question.

"Mostly everything."

I expect more of a reaction from myself. Maybe I'm all reactioned-out. I just nod. My eyes feel tired.

"He pretty much made me tell him, just so you know. He kept ranting about how if I didn't I'd be jeopardizing the entire hospital and that one way or another he was going to make one of us talk. So….yeah."

I snort. I can see Dr. Cox getting all veiny and threatening. I see it everyday. You'd think we'd all be immune to it by now.

I shake my head a try to chuckle.

"So now it's all out in the open. If he thought I was a girl before..."

My bizarre attempt at bitter humor seems useless, so I just stop. Dan nods. I guess there's nothing really to say.

"So…what happened today, Johnny? What did he do? He didn't...uh..."

Of course he would ask that.

"NO!"

That came out too quickly, and loud. I take a breath and try again.

"I don't really know. I sort of….went away, you know? He pushed me into the bathroom, I fell, he was standing there, and then…nothing. Nothing until Dr. Cox came in I guess. He's the next thing I remember."

I shrug. It's weird to shrug lying down.

"Really? Nothing? Nothing at all?"

"Nope."

Not unless you count my dream, which is rapidly fading from my memory. I heard once that if you don't write down your dreams, or tell them to someone within 15 minutes, you'll forget them. I wonder if that's true. How many more minutes am I supposed to have before I completely forget this one? Maybe I want to forget this one.

"I had a dream about it, I think."

Oh, ok. I guess I'm going to talk about it now.

Dan just looks at me and waits.

"It's a little fuzzy."

"What happened in it?"

"Uh…let's see…I don't know. He threw me against the wall in the bathroom, and he kept grabbing my face and pulling at my clothes. His breath stunk. He said some things...nothing really...bad. I guess."

I felt Dan grab my hand.

"Don't worry, Johnny. We'll figure this out. You'll remember in time. You always did, right? Nothing's going to happen." He sighs and closes his eyes. "Nothing _else _is going to happen."

I'm sure I would be able to tell if he had...done…something to me, but I can't shake the underlying fear that something worse than general threats and manhandling went down in there. I would know though. I'm pretty sure.

"Hey, Dan?"

"Yeah?"

"Did Dr. Cox say how long we were in the bathroom before the janitor came back with the key?"

"No, not really. But it didn't sound like long. Just long enough for the janitor to go get the key to the bathroom and come back. Maybe...10 minutes? Maybe less."

"That's not long. Not much could happen during that time, right?"

That was dumb. I knew better than that. A lot can happen in 10 minutes.

The door to the on call room opened, temporarily illuminating the room with the light from the hallway. It's Dr. Cox.

"Hey, Cox-man."

I roll my eyes.

"Careful." Dr. Cox warned. Dan just smiled up at him, unaffected. "You," he pointed at Dan. "Get over here."

Dan squeezed my hand, gave me a "you heard the man" look and walked over the doorway.

"Time to go, we'll meet you outside."

Dan nodded, turned and waved, and disappeared out the door. The door closed, leaving me alone with Dr. Cox in an uncomfortably dark room. He's just standing there leaning against the wall by the door. It feels really weird to be lying in bed while he is standing across the room looking at me with his arms folded across his chest. So, I sit up. I can't help but wince as I do that, feeling an unpleasant tightness in my back and a dull ache in my head since I've opted for resting it against the wall behind me. Dr. Cox clears his throat and I hold my breath, knowing he's about to speak.

My focus shifts to the door when it opens suddenly and Turk bursts into the room.

"JD! Oh my God, Dude. I just heard the _craziest_ thing. Did you hear what happened today?"

I sit up straighter and tense up.

"Uh.."

Turk is too excited to hear my answer and barrels on, not even noticing Dr. Cox is standing behind him.

"You know how the janitor has been hanging around on the roof all day?"

"Yeah."

"Well…apparently he was up on the roof watching people coming in with his binoculars and all of a sudden dropped the binoculars and booked it off the roof. It's true! Elliot saw. Have you ever seen him run?"

"Yeah, actually."

"Anyway, wait…I need light. Hold on."

Turk paused in his story to turn around to flick the light switch and jumped when he saw Dr. Cox standing there looking like my body guard. My body guard….huh…I kind of like that idea.

"Oh, hey Dr. Cox."

Dr. Cox gave Turk a fake smile and then went back to looking thoroughly unamused by Turk's story. Which of course didn't faze him.

"So, he chased this guy pretty much through the hospital I guess, and the guy locked himself in the bathroom! Then he knocked some people over when he left the bathroom, and the janitor chased him right out of the hospital! Tackled him at the door and everything...but he got away. People are saying he was some kind of criminal on American's Most Wanted list. Right here in our hospital! I wish I were the one who tackled him. Only I would have brought him down, man."

Turk tilted his head to the ceiling and spaced out for a second. Probably imagining himself being wined, womened, and songed after capturing the world's most dangerous criminal.

"Alright Gandhi. Story time is over, let's go."

Dr. Cox snapped his fingers and whistled for Turk to go. Turk reached out to slap me some skin. I shift around and drop my feet over the side of the bed and reach out for Turk's hand. I notice my stomach hurts when I leaned forward. Yet another pain to add to the list.

"Turk out."

Dr. Cox held the door open for him and closed it behind him when he left. Once again, it was just us. I wish Turk were still here. I can't believe the janitor chased my uncle out of the hospital. Was he looked for him on the roof all day? He was the only one that I know of who got a good look at his picture on that website…was he really looking out for me? He doesn't hate me?

"Turns out, most of Gandhi's story is true. It took me a while to figure out how the janitor knew, but I think I got it."

Yeah, me too. But I kind of want to hear what he comes up with.

"The computer."

I just nod.

"I take it you didn't say anything to the janitor about any of this?"

I shake my head.

"So he saw your uncle's picture on that website, and knew he was someone to watch out for."

I nod again. I really don't want to talk about this. Far too many people know about this already. As far as I know the janitor doesn't know any specifics, but…it seems like he's drawn some pretty decent conclusions. Two people I see everyday know. I want to disappear.

"I assume Dan told you that I made him tell me the truth."

I can't seem to look at anything but my feet. I am so thankful he's keeping his distance. I don't think I could handle a touchy feely after school special moment with Dr. Cox.

"Listen…I know you don't want to talk about it, and I get that. But I want you to know that I'm not sorry for making Dan tell me. If you want to be mad about that, fine. Be mad. But be mad at me."

I'm not mad. Completely uncomfortable, absolutely humiliated and demoralized - but not mad. I should probably let him know that I'm not mad…but I forgot how to talk. Maybe I can become invisible if I sit here and say nothing.

"JD. You need support. If what happened today didn't make that clear to you, than I don't know what will. You need to tell people. If no one else, you need to tell Turk and Carla. If this guy shows up at the apartment…they should at least be alerted. I made Dan tell me. I really don't want to be the one to tell them."

He paused to let this sink in. I don't know if it's sinking in or not, but if the desired effect was fear – than mission accomplished. Last night I stayed awake all night afraid that my roommates and my brother were in danger. I don't know how many more of those nights I can take. I know Dr. Cox is right. I need to tell them, even if it is only to try to keep them safe. I don't need to tell them everything…just enough, right? Why do I feel like that's the wrong answer?

"You're going home. Dan is pulling the car out front. Get what you need from your locker and meet me in the lobby in five minutes. Don't you dare lollygag either because I really don't want to have to go looking for you."

He walks over to the door and opens it.

"Oh and Susan - you're taking the next couple of days off."

What? That won't be possible. Kelso would never go for that.

"Wha…how? Kelso wo-"

Dr. Cox held is hand up, "Don't worry about Kelso. I can handle him."

He paused and looked at me for a moment.

"Five minutes, Charlotte."

And with that he closed the door. Ok, so that was…uh….huh. Could have been way worse. He actually made it a lot easier than I thought. Who knew Dr. Cox had any tact? Eerily perceptive - check. Brutally honest - check. Surprisingly sensitive - check. But tactful? Huh. Will wonders never cease. I hope not.

I force myself to get up and carefully stretch. My body isn't too thrilled about the stretching and moving about thing, but oh well. I don't have time to "lollygag" so I make my way as quickly as I can to the locker room. I think I have time to change out of these scrubs before. I look around to make sure I am alone. I hate these locker rooms. No privacy whatsoever. I quickly peel off my scrub bottoms and top. That didn't feel very pleasant. Did I scratch myself somewhere? I turn to look in the full-length mirror.

Oh – whoa! It looks like I have rug burn between my collarbones. My jaw is still red and I already starting to bruise. The is a huge bruise the size of my mom's briefs right below my belly button. I lightly press on it, just to see. Yep. Sore. I twist to see if I could see my back, but I can't. The movement causes some stinging along my waistband however, so I gingerly pulling my boxes away from my skin so I can see why. What the hell? I fold the elastic down and turn from side to side in front of the mirror. There are angry red marks all along my waistline - mostly on my sides and hips. Bruises are already starting to form there as well. I pull my boxes out so I can see farther down, and the red marks reach down to the bottom edge of my boxes.

What does this mean? What are these marks from? I think back to my dream and as much as I don't want to, I start to believe that the dream was a memory and not just an over active imagination. But it only explained some of the marks and bruises. I feel nauseous, so I take a few deep breaths and close my eyes.

Come on, JD. You don't have time for this. Stop thinking about it. You're fine. Just get dressed before someone-

"Hey J….D….oh my God, what happened to you?"

Shit, no! It's Elliot!

I jump and grab frantically for my jeans.

"Hey, Elliot!"

I practically fall over trying to put my jeans on, while trying to sound casual. Ah! Why can't I move faster!

She walks closer. I think I might be sweating. I hop on one foot, managing to move back away from her in the process. I can't believe I actually get the damn things on without falling over, but I do.

"JD, calm down, it's not like I haven't seen you in less."

But not like this.

"I know, it's just…well, I've put on a couple pounds and I'm a little self conscious."

Ooohh, good one. She's a girl, she'll understand that, right?

"JD…" Elliot sighed somewhat exasperatingly and walked the short distance that was between us as I turned and pawed through my locker to get my shirt.

"JD, you are so full of shit. If anything, you've lost weight. I mean….look at you…"

That's ok, I already did look. I'm good.

But, now that she mentioned it, I guess I have lost weight. I do seem more bony now than I did just a short week ago. I suppose it shouldn't be surprising considering the lack of food and inability to hold anything down. How much weight can a person lose in a week?

She reached out and touched my ribcage. I kind of yelled/yelped and jumped back. She gave me a funny look and advanced on me again.

"JD, stay still, let me see. Where did these marks come from?"

She's touching me again. It's not like she hasn't touched me before, but this is different. This is Elliot touching me where _he _touched me. This is Elliot trying to find answers to questions that I don't fully have yet. This is Elliot getting waaay too close.

"Stop, Elliot."

I find myself up against the locker with a very persistent Elliot still trying to see my bare torso.

"JD, come on. What's your problem? Let me look."

Because I am the king of irrational panic and fear these days, I of course start to panic. She doesn't seem to notice, but my breath has started to come out fast and raspy. I feel cornered and naked. Well…I am ½ naked.

"Elliot, stop."

"JD, your sides are all bruised. Did you get in a fight or an accident? Are you ok? Oh my God...your stomach..."

I close my eyes and see my uncle's face in front of me. I gasp and open my eyes, but instead of seeing Elliot there, it's still him. Prodding and pulling and touching. I blink rapidly. I can't believe this is happening. Am I going crazy?

"Please, stop." I whisper.

"What are these scratches from? And look at your jaw!"

Elliot's back. I'm shaking now and my eyes are starting to well up. Any minute now my chin's going to start wobbling like it used to when I was a kid. I wonder if I'll ever grow up. I don't know why she won't listen to me. I don't know why she can't see how much this is bothering me.

"Elliot – stop touching me!"

That comes out a lot louder than I expected. It works, she stops touching me. She steps back and looks up at me, she seems stunned.

"JD, what the hell?"

I instantly feel bad for yelling at her. I feel so stupid. I look down and hope she didn't see the tears in my eyes.

"Sorry…"

"What's up with you lately? I never know how to act around you anymore."

I turn away and struggle a little bit to get my shirt on. This is what I was afraid of. This is what happens. I feel like I've lost my friends already and that hurts, literally. I can feel my shoulders shudder with silent sobs. I try to focus on not making any crying sounds, and to hold my tears in. A couple escape anyway and roll down my cheeks. I keep my back to Elliot and pretend to fiddle with my clothing.

If my rational mind were in charge it would be telling me that it's not a loss, yet. I can salvage this, make it ok. If Dr. Cox were in my head, he would be telling me that I should tell her the truth. Especially now that she's noticing my strange behavior.

Somewhere, all of that is slowly trying to break through. This very second, however, I'd rather try to come up with something to appease her for now - just to buy some time.

"I'm sorry Elliot. I just….I've been….well, I haven't been feeling well and…."

I drop my head and sigh. This isn't working. My voice is quavering. I can't just stand here with my back to her forever. Maybe I do need to tell her. I rub my eyes and swallow. I am so dangerously close to a full on breakdown, it's not even funny.

"Hey,"

Elliot's voice is soft and comforting. She sounds like she's talking to a little boy who is lost and can't find his mommy and daddy. You know what, I guess she kind of is.

She touches my elbow and moves in front of me. Everything in me wants to twist away from her searching eyes, but I remain still. She dips her head down and pears at my face. I make eye contact and try to give her a reassuring smile.

She looks at me with such compassion I want to cry more. I close my eyes as she brings her hand up to touch my wet cheek.

The next thing I know, Elliot has her arms wrapped gently around me and her head is resting on my shoulder. I tense up briefly before wrapping my arms around her and relaxing slightly. I find myself utterly flooded with emotion. She really cares about me. I haven't lost my friend. And more than that…how could I think so lowly of my friends that I didn't trust them with my secret?

It seems so obvious now that I bark out a strange cough/laugh. I can't believe it took me this long to see what Dan and Dr. Cox could see all along. I take a deep, shuddery breath. I've made my decision.

Elliot pulls away and looks up at me, with her arms still around my waist. I smile down at her, even with my eyes still brimming with tears.

"JD, what's wrong? You can tell me."

"I know. I know I can tell you and I will, I promise. Just, uh….um…could you come over later, maybe?"

I decided I would tell everyone all at once. That's the only way this was going to happen. I couldn't handle repeating the story more than once. I'm not certain I can even tell it once. I have a feeling I'm going to need Dan's help with this one, and I could only hope he'll be willing to do it.

"Sure, JD."

She looked confused, but I think she knew it was really important to me that she be there.

"Thanks."

My pager buzzed. I looked down at it.

"Oh, crap! I gotta go. Dr. Cox is going to kill me if I'm not in the lobby in one minute."

"Oh, ok. I'm just going to go home and take a quick shower, then I'll be right there, ok?"

I flung my backpack onto my shoulders and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Thanks, Elliot. I've got something I need to tell you. All of you, actually. So…I'll, uh…I'll see ya."

She nodded, looking a little dazed and worried. I turned and ran up the stairs and down the hall to the lobby where a very irritated Dr. Cox was standing.

"It's about time Sheila. Five minutes….what the hell were you doing, looking for the best place to put a henna tattoo?"

"Yeah, actually. Elliot's going to come over later to uh talk about…that. I think I'm going to get everyone's…opinion…all at once."

I cough and shift my feet nervously. Someone opens the door causing a draft to blow through and hit my face. It's cold where my cheeks are still wet from my mini sob fest. I try to nonchalantly wipe them off without Dr. Cox noticing.

I look up at him and smile. He's looking at me with a look that tells me he saw me wiping off my cheeks. In a normal situation he would have made fun of me from crying, but he leaves it alone this time. The funny thing is, I don't think I would have minded a little ribbing. Now that I've made the decision to tell everyone I feel like I'm on some sort of high. A crazy, buzzing, anxious, nervous, sickening, relieved, and weightless high.

"Good idea, Newbie. Let me know if you want me to hang around for that, ok?"

"Yeah…yeah I think I do."

Dr. Cox nods and opens the door.

I can't believe I actually feel a little better about all this. I'm scared that tonight I will potentially change the way everyone I know thinks of me. But I feel like with Dan and Dr. Cox there to help…I can do it. And Dr. Cox is still calling me girl names, so….the world hasn't ended.

I don't know how long this vaguely positive thinking is going to last. I have no food in my stomach, I feel nauseous and sore, I'm still in something of a shocked state from my little visit earlier, the number of people aware of my situation is about to double, and my uncle is out there somewhere – possibly waiting to pounce. But as Dr. Cox puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me to the car where Dan is sitting in the driver's seat smiling. As Dr. Cox gets into his own car parked behind us and proceeds to follow us back to the apartment – I feel loved and safe. I am among friends, and I know that they'll look out for me. This time will be different.

I sink into the car seat, feeling the events of the day weighing down on my shoulders, I close my eyes and dose off. Dan will wake me up when we get there, but for now I seriously need this power nap if I have any hope of getting through tonight. I hope we hit every traffic light and get stuck behind an old couple taking an evening jaunt, because I feel like I could sleep forever.


	9. My Big Wind Up

**Disclaimer: No ownage. Nadda. **

**JD's POV **

**Saturday, 7:15pm **

Stepping outside after dozing in a car (even if it was only for 15 minutes) can sometimes be a very unpleasant experience. Especially when it means stepping into cold night air that instantly slams you back into reality with one touch to the face.

I slowly climb out of Dan's car and look up at our apartment window. It's dark. We're the first ones home. Turk and Carla shouldn't be much longer. We had the same schedules today. I take a deep breath and let it out. For a split second I contemplate making a run for it. If I don't go in there I won't have to tell all my friends my best kept, and most horrific secret. That high I had earlier from the initial decision to do this left while I was sleeping I guess.

Just go in JD. No one else is here yet. Elliot won't be here for a little while. You can even relax for a bit, maybe try to rehearse what you're going to say. Ok. Pep talk – over. I can feel Dan and Dr. Cox walk up and behind me.

I nod to myself and walk up to the door, unlock it, and go in. Dan, Dr. Cox, and I make our way in silence to the apartment. I fumble with the keys momentarily and then all of a sudden the thought occurs to me.

Would if he's here - waiting around the corner. Would if he saw us coming and was waiting for me to get my keys out and open the door to come thundering down the hall and force his way in? Oh my God. Oh my God.

I feel like one of those dippy girls in horror movies that can't find the right key, drops them under the car, and then can't get them in the lock – resulting of course in their death or horrible injury.

I realize I'm panicking again. My eyes have blurred over with threatening tears and my chest feels tight. I am too afraid to glance around to see if he's around. Instead I concentrate very hard on not dropping keys and actually getting them into the keyhole the first try. One swift, but shaky, twist of the wrist and the door opens. I take a giant step in and spin around. My mind tells me that I can't share this stupid fear of my uncle shoving his way into the apartment with Dr. Cox and Dan, but since they don't seem to understand the great urgency of the situation they seem to take forever to get inside.

Once they're in I slam the door, lock it, and deadbolt it.

Dan stops in mid motion of taking off his coat to look at me, and Dr. Cox spins around at the sound of the door slamming. The sound manages to wake me up a little too. I feel really dumb for reacting like that in front of them. I scratch my head and smile at them, letting a nervous laugh push out of my throat.

"Sorry," I mumble.

I don't want to make eye contact right now. I'm too embarrassed. I decide to ignore the whole thing and try to calm my rapidly beating heart. I take my coat off and hang it up in the closet. I rub the back of my neck and close my eyes briefly. Maybe I need another pep talk.

Ok, JD. You're safe and sound your own apartment. You have guests now. Stop acting like you were in Vietnam and play host.

I clear my throat and put on a friendly smile.

"I can hang your coats up if you want."

Dr. Cox looks at me like he's not sure if he should trust me with his coat, but hands it over. Dan just snorts at me and throws his coat onto the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

"Um…you can sit down if you want…uh…the bathroom is over there if you need it. Are you hungry or anything? Can I get you any water? I don't know what we have for munchies but I could-"

"Oh good Lord, Martha – you have got to stop. Stop right now."

Oh. Ok.

"Sorry."

I am the worst host ever. No wonder no one ever came to my parties in High School…or….ever.

Ok. I realize this is not a party…but right now I feel like the most unpopular kid in school again trying desperately to make everyone happy and have a good time. I guess this isn't really the right time to try to become a socialite or the life of the party.

It's hot in here. I wonder if anyone else is hot.

I wander over to the thermostat.

"Is anyone else hot?"

I glance over at Dr. Cox who is still looking at me like I've said the most ridiculous thing possible.

"Oh, uh…are you cold…or…um, do I need to…" I motion to the thermostat.

"It's fine, little brother. Sit down." Dan walks by and claps me on the shoulder as he passes.

"Yeah, ok."

I feel a little lost. I don't know how I'm supposed to be right now. I smile at Dr. Cox. It's polite to smile at people. It's polite to smile at guests in your home.

A voice inside my head growls at me, "This isn't your home. This Turk and Carla's apartment. You don't have a home. You've never had a home."

What the hell? Why does my brain do that to me? I wanted to talk back to the angry, mean voice…but that would just make me feel even more nuts. I had a friend in med school that named her brain. She called it "mean horsey". I never figured out exactly what she meant by that. Maybe she pictured her brain as a horse with flared nostrils – steam coming out of them. An image of a huge horse, muscles bulging, popped into my head. It was staring at me – steam shooting out of his nostrils and all – dragging a heavy hoof back and forth like it was getting ready to charge.

Ok, not cool. I shake my head and blink away the image. That's it, no more listening to the angry voice in your head. I sigh and sit down on the couch. I feel fidgety and anxious. I hate waiting.

Right on cue I hear the jingling of keys in the door. Turk and Carla must be home. Instead of being relieved that part of the waiting is over – I get that insta-burn sensation in my stomach. You know – like when you look up from changing the radio station in your car to see a raccoon in your headlights and this fire bubbles up from your stomach and spreads in less than a second throughout your entire upper torso? Yeah. That.

I stand back up and stare at the door.

"Calm down, it's just Turk and Carla."

Dan says this as though it was the most casual thing in the world. He says this while sticking his head in one of the kitchen cupboards, scavenging for food. He says it in that "you're an idiot" tone of voice, not in the "it's ok, Johnny, I know you're freaked out – but there's no need to be". A thought begins forming that tells me that he's already sick of being encouraging and sensitive with me.

Before I have time to even have the complete thought go through my brain, let alone react to it, I hear Turk yell from the other side of the door.

"Hey! You locked us out again! JD, are you in there?"

Oh crap – the deadbolt!

"Sorry guys! I'm coming!"

I scurry over to the door and unlock the deadbolt and open the door for them. Turk and Carla both walk in looking none too pleased with me. I quickly shut the door behind them and lock both locks again. Apparently it's a new instinct.

Carla turned around to look at me like I was her idiot little brother who kept trying to play with her and her friends because I didn't have any friends of my own and it was pissing her off. Turk just raced past me to the bathroom, chanting "Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now."

Well that explains his irritability about being locked out. Maybe this isn't the best night to do this. No one seems to really be all that excited about having me around. In fact, everyone seems to be in a bad mood. Maybe I should call Elliot and tell her not to bother - that we'd talk some other time.

Carla went into their bedroom. I guess to change out of her scrubs. 5 really awkward minutes go by before both Carla and Turk emerge from their respective rooms and come back out into the living room. They both flop down on the couch and instantly snuggle into each other. They look tired. Another reason why this isn't a good time to have this conversation. Why is my timing always the absolute worst?

"JD, why is Dr. Cox in our apartment?" Finally someone spoke up. Yea Turk! Oh, wait...he was asking me wasn't he?

Everyone turns to look at me, waiting for my answer like it would be the answer to life, the universe, and everything.

"Uh...he's uh...well um..." Dr. Cox looks disappointed at my inability to answer a simple question, Turk and Carla look impatient, and Dan is still looking in our cupboards. In my mind this was not a simple question. In order to properly answer this question I would have to bring up the whole "I have something big to tell you guys, I hope you didn't have plans tonight" thing. I made the decision to do this, but that doesn't mean I figured out anything past that point.

"I invited him over."

Hm. Simple enough. Clear. Concise.

Turk raised his eyebrow at me and then at Dr. Cox.

"And he actually came?"

It's a adolescent way to react, but for some reason I felt a little stung by Turk's remark. I know he didn't mean anything insulting to me by the comment. Dr. Cox and I don't exactly have the sort of relationship in which we hang out at each other's homes. But I flinch internally anyway because to me Turk may as well have stood up pointing and laughing at me saying in between guffaws, "You? Why would someone like Dr. Cox want to hang out with a loser like you?"

Ok, so that's a bit dramatic, and way off the mark. Time to focus. You can do this. Just tell them...tell them...oh God. What the hell do I tell them?

"Heh. Yeah, he actually came." Ok. Think think think. No, scratch that. Thinking doesn't seem to be working. Just say something. "I asked Elliot to come over too. She should be here in a little bit. Could you guys maybe stick around tonight? There's something I want to tell you guys, uh...all of you guys."

There. I said it. Wasn't so bad. Now I just have to wait until Elliot gets here and then...then it really begins. How am I going to do this? I need a script! Oh. My. God.

I think I'm beginning to panic again. I don't even know if Turk and Carla answered my question. I don't care.

"Excuse me."

I think I should go hide until Elliot gets here. You know what? I still haven't brushed my teeth! How disgusting is that? I head toward the bathroom.

"Bambi - what happened to your face?"

Dodge. DODGE!

"I, uh..it's um...I'll tell you later?"

I sprint into the bathroom and shut the door and lock it. I sigh and lean against the door with my eyes closed for a moment. I can hear that they are talking out there. I wonder what they're saying. I wonder if they are talking about me. I just stand like this for a while, listening to the low, muffled sounds of their voices. Every now and then I catch something. Turk keeps chattering about a sweatshirt. After a while I catch on that he seems to think this meeting is about some sweatshirt of his he thinks I ruined. I shake my head and chuckle.

I take my sweet time brushing my teeth. And flossing. And gargling. For good measure I do the whole routine again. The whole time a sick dread begins to build in my gut. I can feel my face burning. If I'm reacting like this alone in the bathroom thinking about what's coming next - how they hell am I going to react when I'm face to face with all my friends? I rinse my mouth out and accidentally lift my eyes up to catch my reflection in the mirror. It was just habit, no thought behind it at all. In fact I hadn't even realized that I had been avoiding looking in the mirror until right then.

I think I'm starting to get less and less surprised by the new face that is staring back at me. I'm not convinced it's really my face. My jaw and neck are bruised. My skin color isn't quite right. My eyes are...vacant? Dull? Scared? I don't know. That's not me. Or maybe it is. I guess it is. Now. I guess this is who I am now.

There's a soft rap at the door. Oh...huh, I'm sitting on the toilet. I guess I must have zoned out there a little. I wonder how long I've been sitting here.

"Just a minute."

"Are you ok Bambi? You've been in there for a while."

"Yeah...fine, Carla. I'll be right out."

"Ok."

She doesn't leave right away. I can see the shadows of her feet under the door. Maybe I should flush the toilet, make it more believable that I had a reason to be in here this long. I wash my hands and stare at my strange eyes another minute or so. Have they gotten darker in color?

So, now I suppose I should get back out there. Elliot shouldn't be that much longer I don't think. I hope.

Turns out, I was right. Elliot showed up 10 minutes later looking hesitant and concerned. She gave me a really long hug when I unlocked the door for her. I think Carla might be a little worried about what this is all about. Turk is still stuck on the sweatshirt thing. When I came out of the bathroom, he came up to me with a very serious look on his face, placed his hands on my shoulders and told me that he knew what this was about and not to worry because he already forgave me for the sweatshirt. For some reason I didn't feel the need to answer him. I just gave him a look that said "umm...ok..." and shook my head. He keeps nodding at me like he's expecting me to admit to ruining his sweatshirt. I hope it wasn't his "The sports team from my area is better than the sports team from your area" one. I love that one.

Ok. Now that everyone is here and looking at me expectantly I guess I should start this thing.

I sit down in a chair and fold my legs up under me, Indian style. Dan comes up and hands me and Dr. Cox a beer. He keeps 2 for himself and plops himself down on the floor in front of my chair so his back his leaning against it. Dr. Cox is standing by my left shoulder. Elliot, Turk, and Carla are on the couch. I glance up at Dr. Cox who is staring straight ahead with his arms crossed. He looks very focused and serious. Dan is already 1/3 of the way through his first beer and I haven't even said anything yet. It's still encouraging to have him sitting so close, even if he plans on getting sloshed.

Carla smiles at me sweetly, "Ok, JD. We're all here. What do you want to tell us?" Turk holds up his hand and opens his mouth, but Carla smacks him on the arm. "Let the boy talk." Turk rubs his arm but catches my eye and mouths, "I forgive you."

If only this were about a damn sweatshirt. I try to smile at Turk. The corners of my mouth don't seem to want to cooperate though and they don't quite make it. I think I'm sweating. I've never told the whole story to anyone. Not like this. Dan knows of course, but...that was different. I wonder if they would let me tell them while hiding in the bathroom.

I glance at my 3 friends on the couch and my stomach lurches in fear. An image flashes in my head of an interrogation room with damp, concrete walls. A green lamp hangs low above my head casting everyone in a sick yellowish light. There is a cigarette burning in an ash tray in front of me. I go to grab it to take a drag, but my arms are chained to my chair. Across from me Turk, Carla, and Elliot are all sitting at a large metal table with notebooks and stern looks on their faces. Dan and Dr. Cox are standing on either side of me, arms crossed, wearing security guard uniforms. Carla stands up and stalks over to me menacingly and slams her hand on the metal table right in front of me with a loud BANG! I jump.

A hand lands on my shoulder and I look up to see Dr. Cox, wearing his jeans and button down shirt, standing in my living room and looking down at me. I wish you could pass strength to another person by a touch on the shoulder. I am seriously in need of strength, even if it's borrowed. Maybe he's just making sure I don't bolt. Maybe he's not trying to be encouraging.

Deciding that maybe it's best not to try to look anyone in the eye, I stare down at my hands in my lap and clear my throat.

"I don't know how many of you have noticed that I haven't exactly been myself lately...uh...I guess I gathered you guys here to explain some...stuff. Um, I was encouraged to do this, so..." I clear my throat and take a sip of my beer. It's too bitter, but I think I'm going to need something to help when my throat feels like it's closing up on me.

I look at my friends again. This time instead of seeing them as scary interrogators, I see them as simply my friends. I see them as the people who I've grown to know and love over the years. They are closer to me than my family, in many ways even Dan. They have no idea what was coming. I want to protect them from what I was about to tell them. I want to protect them from me...me and my past. I felt all courage leave me, I felt deflated. How could I do this to them? They didn't need this in their life.

This wasn't the best time to second guess my decision to tell my friends. Not now when I had gathered them all together, and they were waiting for me to explain to them why. Not now when some of them were starting to notice some things a little out of the ordinary with me. I know that I have to do this. Doubts and fears aside. I was committed. Wishing I had a written something - an outline or anything at all to follow - I take a deep breath and start from the only point I can think of. The beginning.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o-o

Author's note: Sorry guys! I know this is a completely uneventful chapter. It's just taking me so damn long to write this I felt like I had to post _something!_ So here's a filler chapter. Hopefully the next one will be better with some actual meat. And hopefully it won't take me as long to write. I'm starting to get really disappointed in this. Actually, I've been pretty disappointed all along. Nothing ever comes out quite the way you imagine it does it? Wait a minute, I'm writing to a bunch of fan fic writers who seem to have no problem writing really good stories on a regular basis...so...I guess maybe you can't quite relate to my story writing incompetence. Bah. I hope you lovely loyal readers and reviewers can bear with me until the end! Much love to all.


	10. My Story

**Disclaimer: I clearly own nothing. (Of any value or substance that is) **

**JD's POV **

It took 45 minutes and 3 beers, but it's finally over. Well, almost over. I've brought everyone up to speed - right up until today's adventure packed events.

I told them about everything –from the beginning right on through to the present with no interruptions (which is partly due to me asking for no interruptions but I'm pretty sure 1/2 the time everyone was shocked into silence and the other 1/2 Dr. Cox was most likely threatening them with his eyes). I told them how my Uncle (my dad's brother) Steven moved in with us when I was 7 years old and stayed with us for 4 years. I told them how he abused me, daily, for those 4 years. Abuse. In all its glorious categories. Sexual, physical, emotional, verbal…you name it. He was a jack-of-all-trades that one. I can't tell if I was too detailed, or not detailed enough. Either way, I'm willing to bet all my wages for this year that it's was far more detail than anyone had bargained for – even Dr. Cox and Dan, hell….even me.

True, Dan knew more than anyone else. I told him a lot growing up. But I think even he learned a thing or two tonight. He didn't know how soon it started. He didn't know about those times Uncle Steven would follow me into the bathroom and try to play the "you show me yours, I'll show you mine" game. Back then in those first weeks he would always make a joke out of it. Laugh it off, tell me to lighten up, he was kidding. Later he would tell me this was what people did and that he was only showing me how to be like everyone else – that I should be thankful.

Of course, he also told me that I couldn't tell anyone because it wasn't the sort of thing that people talked about and no one would want to hear it. He turned out to be more right about that than he could possibly have known.

I told them all that when I finally told Dan about how he touched me all the time and made me touch him – Dan thought mom and dad should know. That only got both Dan and I grounded for making up lies about family members. That was a continuing theme all through those 4 years…and ever after. Mom and dad even convinced Dan that what I was telling him was wrong and that nothing was going on. I stopped even telling him for a little while.

I told them about the first time Uncle Steven got physically violent with me while mom and dad were gone on a date. I realized later that their "date" was really one of several desperate attempts to save their marriage. Dan was upstairs studying and I was watching t.v. when he came in the living room – drunk. He always drank a lot, but I had never seen him that far gone. He grabbed the remote control out of my hand and without a word threw it across the room and back handed me. He sort of went ballistic – whipping me with his belt, kicking me in the back and stomach while yelling at me that I was nothing to anyone and that no one would ever love me. The weird thing was, Dan came downstairs to see what the hell was going on and Uncle Steven totally stopped. It was like he was scared of Dan – a scrawny 11year old.

He must have been worried that mom and dad would believe me now that I had visible evidence that something bad was going on, so he high tailed it on out of there. However, in the hours between his fleeing and mom and dad returning from their date he had time to come up with a pretty decent story. He caught them in the driveway and told them that I had snuck out of the house and got in a fight with some neighbor kid. He said he had gone over to smooth things over with the other kid's parents and that I had been throwing temper tantrums all night and kept changing my story about what had happened. So, by the time they came through the door they were prepared to think that anything I told them was a lie. I ended up grounded for a month, which of course meant I was home even more than I already was.

After that he saved those violent moments for the times no one else was home. Normally they weren't as sloppy as that first time. He was almost always completely obliterated when he would hit me, but after his close call he smartened up. He wouldn't leave marks that could be seen unless my parents walked in on me naked or something, and he was careful never to cause an injury that would land me in the hospital since that would raise suspicion. As it turns out, those times when no one else was home started coming more and more frequently as the years went on. After Dad moved out and Dan started Junior High it felt like I was home alone with him three times as often. As you can imagine those were also Uncle Steven's favorite times for…the other stuff.

That's been the most difficult to talk about. Pretty much eye contact has not been a possibility this whole time, but when I got to that day when I got back from school to an empty house and didn't close my door before changing out of my school clothes thinking no one was around...I had to close my eyes completely to tell it.

I guess I didn't hear Uncle Steven come home. I did however hear him coming down the hallway and I tried then to close and lock the door, but he was too fast and he broke the lock by forcing the door open before I had a chance to fully flip the lock into place. The lock never got fixed.

I told them about how he raped me that day. I told them about how that seemed to unleash even more of a monster in him. Up until then the sexual abuse had been stolen touches and gropes, odd suggestions and questions, porn he would make me watch, and games he would make me play. Those just weren't enough anymore after that. That day I had the first of many "mind escapes". I blacked out most of that memory until that night it all came back to me in my dreams. That would become a pattern - an intentional one. I created worlds for myself to retreat to, and eventually that leaked into my everyday life. I was regarded as the weird kid in school and I slowly lost the small handful of friends I had. Even the teachers didn't know what to do with me. They all just thought I was flighty, and one teacher was adamant that I had ADHD and kept trying to get my parents to get me on drugs.

I was so horrified and ashamed after the rape that I kept quiet about it for a long time. It didn't help that Uncle Steven was very good at making threats about what would happen if I told anyone anyway. Dan had heard me thrashing around in my sleep and had noticed that I seemed even more skittish around Uncle Steven. He began to ask me questions about it. One night after another...um…"incident", I was having a particularly graphic dream and Dan came in to wake me up. I just broke down in front of him and told him what had been happening. He was scared and livid and told mom and dad - even though I warned him not to. History of course repeated itself and they were angry with me for telling these "disgusting lies" all the time. They couldn't figure out why I would do that to my own family, and I'm sure they thought I was a pretty twisted 8 year old for coming up with those types of stories. Dan was fairly persistent though and kept trying to talk to them about it. It only made things worse, and it caused me to be perpetually grounded. Not that it changed anything since I had no friends and no place to go. Mom and dad even made me apologize to Uncle Steven once in front of them. The repercussions of that were….horrific.

For that first year I heard mom and dad fighting a lot, and quite often I would hear my name mentioned during those fights. When dad moved out a few months before my 9th birthday I was left with the distinct impression that I had something to do with it. Dad didn't really give me that idea – it was mom. I mean, she out right told me that it was my fault - that my lies destroyed the family and ruined her life. She was a total mess for a long time…I guess she still pretty much is. Dan took it all pretty hard, too. He must have been so confused. His little brother was a mental case, his Uncle was a perverted freak, his dad up and left the family, and his mom had lost all control. He was so young. Dan never said as much, but I think mom and dad's theories of my lies being the cause of all of this had planted a seed of doubt in him. He responded to everything by getting out of the house as much as possible and he stopped trying to convince our parents that I was telling the truth for a long time. I can't blame him. If I could have gotten away, I would have too. I just didn't know how.

I told them about how I had a growth spurt when I was almost 10 and I thought that maybe since I was bigger now I could fight Uncle Steven off. That only resulted in spurring on his creativity and helping him realize his love for weaponry. Things were worse after that. Mom was working a lot and was always going off on dates as often as she could find them, thus beginning what Dan and I would later refer to as "The season of rapid fire weddings". Dan joined every sport and extra-curricular activity that would have him and was always gone off to some practice or friend's house. This of course left me even more vulnerable to Uncle Steven's various attacks.

Uncle Steven was...well...moody I guess. I never knew which version of him I was going to get. Sometimes he would be almost affectionate and tell me things like, "you're so beautiful, I'm only doing this because of how beautiful you are. No one loves you like I do." Usually when he was in one of those moods he would actually "cuddle" after he would rape me. Even though he was generally more gentle during those times, I hated them the most. They lasted longer, and I always found them profoundly more disturbing. For some reason my mind was less able to escape when he was in those moods. So I was normally forced to suffer through it without the help of my fantasy worlds.

Most of the time, though, he was more violent. He would tell me that no one would ever love me and that this would be the only kind of love I would ever get. He would tell me that I was worthless and expendable and that was why no one would ever save me. I found it interesting that he would sometimes inadvertently admit that he was doing something that I needed to be saved from in those moments. When he was in those moods it was over more quickly, but he was much more rough. Thankfully these were the episodes that I was the most able to hide from in my mind - at least until later that night when my mind would betray me in my sleep.

Sometimes Uncle Steven would get really confused and kind of bounce back and forth from mood to mood. In these times he would often blame me for what was happening to me. He would be really flattering one minute and then angry the next and hit me and say that I was doing this - that there was something wrong with me and I was making him behave this way. These were the most frightening of them all. I soon learned that it was then that he was the most apt to be careless. I was the most in danger of getting really hurt.

It was after one of those episodes that everything went spinning out of control. Uncle Steven was particularly confused and sloppy one day. He had grabbed a knife for his weapon of choice to keep me at bay and I had gotten cut up pretty badly as a consequence. Dan happened to come home between practices to find me in the bathroom trying to clean myself up. By now I had given up trying to convince anyone that he was hurting me. Even Dan – whom I hardly even saw. I was almost 11 at this point and I had gotten pretty good at administering basic first aid on myself.

Uncle Steven had gone off to a bar when he was "finished", as he often did afterwards. So it was just me and Dan. I remember his face when he saw me in the bathroom just in my underwear. He completely lost it seeing me like that. He threw up a few times and couldn't stop crying and yelling. I didn't say any of this to them. They don't need to know about Dan's emotional break down.

I had never seen him like that before - or since. It all just hit him like a tidal wave, everything he had tried to hide from. He held me for a full hour while he cried and told me how sorry he was for leaving me there with Uncle Steven. It wasn't his fault. I still don't know if he believes that. After he pulled himself together he called the cops. He did all the talking pretty much. I decided to become mute. The police officer waited for Uncle Steven to get home and questioned him. I don't think anything would have been done if he hadn't been drunk at the time and he ended up punching the police officer.

This kicked off the beginning of the end. When mom found out he had been arrested she got pissed and told him that she wasn't posting bail and that when he got out he wasn't coming back to the house - at least not right away. Apparently my Uncle could be quite the charmer. He had caught the eye of the secretary at the police station and shacked up with her for about a month.

Those were the quietest, most peaceful 4 weeks I had ever known. They would have been perfect if Dan hadn't taken up the crusade of convincing mom that Uncle Steven was an abuser. It was pretty much a daily ritual for Dan to randomly bring it up and try to get me to confess to mom what had been going on. I would normally just start crying and could only nod in agreement here and there as Dan tried telling her some specifics. She just started hitting the bottle and the singles clubs hard and ignored it all together. I guess it wasn't all that peaceful now that I think about it.

As it turns out, the poor secretary had a son about my age and Uncle Steven had had found a replacement for me. Although, when her son came to her and told her what was happening it didn't take her long to actually believe it and press charges. The night she called to have him arrested, he beat her up pretty badly and then ran out of her house and came back to ours. Mom, Dan, and I were all there cleaning up after supper. He came storming in and charged me. He grabbed me by the neck and started shaking me, choking me, and yelling that he was going to kill me. Dan pulled him off me and mom actually went to call the police. Uncle Steven was starting to figure out that things weren't looking very good for him, so he booked it and tried to leave town. He was caught after running a red light and taken in. There was a warrant out for his arrest.

Dan didn't let me follow the trial, and Mom didn't let me testify or press charges, so my story never got brought to trial. I have no idea what happened, but I think that a lot more charges on him were found to have him put away for 15 years. I know that the single mom from the police station and her son won their case, along with some other families that came forward.

He had kept himself quite busy over the years as he moved around. No one else from the 4 years he was with us came forward besides the woman who started this whole trial. I felt so guilty for that, though. I knew that if I had done something earlier, if I had ignored my parents and gone to the authorities, or a teacher, or something when this all started...that poor boy wouldn't have had to suffer. The thought still makes me sick to my stomach.

So now, I am sitting here watching the tears, that I hadn't even realized had fallen, dry on my hands as I prepare to head into the next chapter of this saga. I can't bear to look up to see the faces of Turk, Carla, and Elliot in front of me on the couch. From time to time I'd hear a gasp, a sob, a whimper, or a soft "Oh, JD" come from someone...but other than that I hadn't even really noticed they were in the room. I may as well have been talking to myself or narrating into a tape recorder - which in hindsight may have been a way better idea. I could have just handed them the tape and told them to listen to it while I hid in my room. Oh well. It's too late now. It's too late for a lot of things.

Dan had gotten up, sensing a "page break" in the story, to get more beer. He's been silently drinking the whole time. Dr. Cox has been standing next to me like a statue. Every once in a while he would put his hand on my shoulder, but other than that there wasn't a sound or movement from him this entire time. He's probably going to be sore when he finally decides to move.

I feel bad that I've taken so long with this. I should have thought about that. Everyone must be so uncomfortable. Oh good grief...uncomfortable wouldn't even come close to describing how everyone is feeling right now. And it's all thanks to me. I feel like I held all my friends' eyelids open and forced them to watch horrific home movies of my childhood all night. I kind of want to jump up and pull them all to me in a huge hug and wail at the ceiling that I am so sorry that I did this to them. I guess the need to stay as disconnected as possible from this whole thing wins out since I stay where I am. I realize though, that this is where they actually become involved. This is where there is a connection between them and this whole repulsive scenario. So, I'm going to have to forfeit that need to disconnect at least a little in order to continue on. Damn it. I need more beer.

"Ok. So...I guess this is where it might start to make sense that I'm bothering to tell you guys any of this at all." I clear my throat, which I am suddenly aware is really quite dry after I've been talking nearly non-stop for close to an hour. The three beers I've already gone through have only managed to leave a bitter taste in my mouth. But, even so I'm working away on my 4th. Deep breath. Here we go again.

"Close to a week ago I was at that little market - the one with the muffins you like so much, Elliot. I swore I saw him. It was a brief glance, and as far as I knew it would have been impossible. It scared the crap out of me non-the-less. I guess I started acting a little 'off' at that point. Um...I talked to Dan the next day and as it turns out he had been released from prison, so...it really could have been him."

"I looked it up on the online sex offender registry and found out that he lives here. On the other side of town, but...yeah. Dr. Cox you caught me looking at the website that morning. That's when I accidentally hit you with my chair, which I never apologized for, so...I'm sorry."

"Dan showed up the next day right before I uh, fainted...in a very manly way. The janitor was there, looking through the websites that people had been to. So of course, he was looking at the sex offender website, trying to guess who had been looking at that. I think he figured it out."

Huh, maybe he should have been here. Oh Lord, I'm really losing it.

"Um...the next night I'm pretty sure Uncle Steven tried to get in the apartment while you guys were out at the bar. That's why the deadbolt was locked, I wasn't really watching Pet Cemetery." I hung my head and stared at my hands again. "I'm sorry I lied."

"I guess that brings us up to date...up until today anyway. He came to the hospital today. He...h-he locked us in the bathroom. I don't think anything...happened…but I kind of, uh...don't remember most of it. Just some shoving and talking. I don't know. I guess I had one of my black out moments." I look up in Turk's general direction, "That's the guy the janitor chased out of the hospital, by the way."

I let out a shuddery sigh, gently set my 4th bottle of beer (still 1/2 full) on the floor next to me, and for the first time raised my head to look directly at Turk, Carla, and Elliot. I see my friends, the people I just want to protect from pain and sorrow and I see that I failed. They are clutching one another and their eyes are glossy with tears. I did that. They look scared and lost. I did that. There is a man out there who is after me - who knows where I live. Only it's not just me who lives here. Carla and Turk are in danger…because of me. If anything were to happen to them...

Before I am even aware that I'm about to cry my body convulses with a powerful sob. It sounded so loud, echoing in my ears. I bend myself in half and bury my face in my hands.

"I'm so sorry!" My voice is thick and unsteady. It's embarrassing, but I can't stop. "He might come back. He might come here! It's my fault you have to be a part of this. None of you should have to know...should have to worry. I'm so...so sorry. I-I...I should leave."

Yes! Yes. I should leave. My sobs stop almost as abruptly as they started. I straighten up again and wipe off the remaining tears on my cheeks.

"He won't bother you if I'm not here."

Oh my God. I am brilliant. I could almost smile. I have to get moving, he could come at any time. I sniff and maneuver my legs to one side of Dan (who is sitting on the floor directly in front on my chair) and stand up. I have a task. A mission. This is good. No...this is more than good. This is great!

"Scarlet, I don't think that's a very good idea."

What? Yes it is.

"W-what do you mean?"

Dr. Cox finally moves from his spot and steps around Dan and over to me. I follow his movement with my eyes and notice that Turk and Carla have stood up as well. Dr. Cox stops in front of me and places his hands on my shoulders.

"This guy tracked you down at the hospital today. If he really came here the other night that means he has figured out where you live. I'm thinking he would be able to find you if you moved. You need to stay here, where there are people to make sure you're safe. You can't be alone."

"Oh."

My shoulders hunched and my head dropped to my chin. This isn't how this is supposed to work. I'm not supposed to interrupt everyone's lives like this. I'm not supposed to put everyone is harm's way. Dr. Cox takes his hands off my shoulder and I feel someone take my hand and pull me into a hug. It's Carla. My arms feel unnaturally heavy. I don't return the hug. I let my head fall onto her shoulder and the tears start to flow again. I'm so tired. I don't have the energy to control the way my body moves. I can't stop myself from shaking with every sob. My legs feel like jelly and have this sudden fear that I'm going to do that thing where you collapse into a sniveling pile of tears and anguish. They do it all the time in movies. There's been more than enough drama tonight.

"I...I think maybe I should go to bed."

Carla pulls out of the hug finally and wipes my cheeks with her thumb. I flick my eyes up to her face, but I don't leave them there long enough to really look at her. I don't think seeing her eyes would be overly beneficial at this point. I'm pretty sure I can conjure up an accurate image in my head anyway.

"This was exhausting." I try to laugh to lighten the mood some. It just kind of sounds strange and loud in the quiet room.

"Yeah, Bambi. I think that's a good idea."

I nod and start to shuffle my way to my room, my head bowed. I can sense that there are people behind me, following me. I turn to say goodnight and am caught in another attack hug. It's Elliot, and this time I actually return the hug. We don't say anything. She pulls away and steps aside and I find myself staring at Turk's chest.

"Um...thanks for coming...good night guys."

That sounded idiotic. I turn to open my door, but Turk stops me with a hand on my arm. I look at it.

"JD."

I wait.

"Just...come get me if you need anything."

I nod again and finally am able to go to my room and close the door. So that's it. It's been done. They know.

My feet drag me to my bed and I feel myself fall onto it.

They know.

I close my eyes and roll over onto my side, tucking my hands between my knees.

They _know_!

I feel my face contort with the oncoming tears and I turn my head to silently weep into my pillow.

Everything hits me all at once. Realizing that all my secrets are out in the open now, that everyone will look at me and see what that man did. I will never look the same to them. I just reopened all those wounds. Remembered and relived all the horror. All the guilt. All the fear. All the shame. Everything is here, settling in my chest, creeping up my throat - choking me. There is a gaping hole from today's encounter and I am afraid to fill in. I feel like such a coward. All the things I never wanted to face again are all there. I'm trapped in my room with it. Alone.

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Author's Note: Ok people. I am so sorry that you all waited this long for this piece of crap. I re-wrote the damn thing a couple times. I tried writing out JD telling everyone instead of writing a narration of what he had already said. I nearly had that finished when I decided to try it this way and I think I like this one better. But they were both such utter rubbish that I'm rather embarrassed submitting it at all! So, with a heavy heart I give you this most horrendous chapter. Here's hoping I can write something better for the next chapter! Thanks for bearing with me and I hope you'll stick it out for the next one and forget this chapter ever happened.


	11. My Spooning Session

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, so shut up **

**JD's POV**

**

* * *

****Later that night, around 11:30pm **

"_Be a good boy, now, Johnny. Remember what I told you before? Don't think I haven't forgotten."_

"_No…."_

_His grip on my jaw tightens. Just when I think it's about to shatter he moves his hand down to my neck and squeezes. I choke. His other hand is still pushing against my stomach. He leans forward, resting his forehead on the wall. He's so close, I can feel his jaw move on my cheek when he talks._

_"You ruined my life, Johnny. 15 years... you took my life away from me."_

_I can feel him take a deep breath. I can't breath. My lungs feel like they're going to explode. He lifts his head from the wall and looks at me curiously. Suddenly his face softens and he gives me a small, almost loving smile before leaning in and planting a delicate kiss on my lips. I close my eyes and try to turn away, but he releases his hold on my neck and holds my head in place. I want to die._

_"Look at you...so beautiful."_

_I whimper, and he rewards it with a sharp slap across the face._

_"Look at me!"_

_My eyes shoot open. The soft look is gone, replaced with a look of loathing and malice. And then his hands are on my hips and I'm being pulled from the wall and slammed against a sink. His rough hands spin me around so my sore stomach is pressed against the unyielding porcelain. Oh God, what's happening, what is he doing? I need help. I want to scream, but all I can do is gasp and cough. Fingers are digging into my waist, searching, clawing, pulling. Instinctively, I try to push his hands away. Both our movements are getting desperate. He's against me now, his breath feels hot and disgusting on the back of my neck._

_"No...please...no..."_

_"15 years Johnny...15 years..."_

_He's trying to pull my scrubs bottoms down, but they're tied too tight. He can't loosen the knot. Please God, don't let this happen. Please...someone help me._

_Muffled voices are coming from somewhere, somewhere else...His fingers stop clawing and he stiffens. Suddenly I feel him pull away, there are footsteps and voices. The door knob is rattling, it's opening - shouts, rustling, and he's gone. He's gone._

"Hey, shhhh...it's okay buddy. Shhhh..."

"W-wha, where...D-Dan?"

I'm sitting up in bed. I'm out of breath and shaking. I can feel sweat on the back of my neck. My mouth feels like cotton. I was dreaming. I was remembering.

"You okay, little brother?"

Dan is kneeling on the floor next to my bed with a hand on my knee. I nod numbly and rub my face with my hand.

"Sorry...did I wake you up?" I whisper.

"Don't worry about it."

We're both silent for a moment. I can hear a clock ticking somewhere in the apartment and I wonder who else is awake...who else heard me. What did I sound like? My stomach is unwinding itself after waking up in a panic, leaving my limbs feeling heavy. Exhaustion forces me to lie back down. I fling an arm over my eyes and let the other arm hang over the side of my bed.

"Is anyone else awake?"

"I don't think so."

Pause

"Were you dreaming about...him?"

I nod.

"About today? Remembering?"

I nod again.

"How bad was it?"

I swallow. My mouth tastes disgusting. I wish I had some water.

"Could have been worse."

We both know what I mean.

"Is everyone freaking out?" My voice sounds raspy.

Dan sighs. "Don't worry about everyone else, Johnny. Just..." his hand slips into mine, "Just go back to sleep. I'll be right here."

I find that I'm too tired to say anything, so I lightly squeeze his hand in response and allow myself to relax into my pillow. With Dan in the room I feel safe, and I can already feel sleep once again taking over.

"Do you have an extra pillow?"

I blindly reach next to me and throw my extra pillow over the edge of the bed. The muffled "Mmmpf" sound tells me my aim is better than usual, and I got my brother right in the face. Nice.

"Thanks, little brother."

"Shut up and go to sleep."

"Do I have to hold your hand all night?"

"Yes."

Pause

"Can I have a blanket?"

* * *

**11:55pm**

"JD, you awake?"

Not anymore.

"Yeah."

"I heard you talking."

I prop myself up on one elbow and squint into the darkness of my room. I can barely make out Elliot's outline. Even her silhouette looks like a bundle of nervous energy. The clock glows 11:56.

"Sorry."

I wonder what she's still doing here. Doesn't she have to work in the morning? Great, now I'm feeling guilty. She's going to lose sleep over this. At least I'm not the only one.

"OW!"

"Frick! Oooff!"

"Owwiies!"

I now have an Elliot shaped lump half on my lap and half on Dan.

"Hey Elliot." Dan sleepily mumbles. "Coming to join us? There's plenty of room next to me, sweet thing."

"Sorry, Dan. What are you doing on the floor?"

"Waiting for you."

Elliot groaned and crawled up onto the bed and flopped down on the other side of me, away from Dan.

"Go back to sleep, Dan." I hiss at him.

"You okay, JD?" Elliot whispers.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I didn't need that leg anyway."

She snorts and lightly swats my arm before wiggling under the covers.

"Yeah, I didn't think so. It's not like you ever use that one anyway."

I chuckle and move my arm to try to swat her back. Instead my hand brushes her hand and she quickly grabs a hold of it. There was something desperate in the movement. The air shifts around us, changing from lighthearted banter to something more solemn. Elliot moves a little, and then she nestles her head against my neck. Her hair tickles my face. I didn't even flinch! I'd do a dance of joy if I wasn't so comfortable right now, snuggled up with one of my favorite people.

"I love you, JD."

My eyes flutter closed against the threat of more tears. I believe her, I really do. And to think I was so convinced I was about to lose her to my nightmare. Here, with me in bed, she's closer to me than she's been for a long time.

"I love you, too..."

She squeezes my hand and I can feel her eyelashes against my neck as she closed her eyes. I smile.

"...Smelliot."

* * *

**12:05am **

"You guys awake?"

What is with everyone tonight? Oh yeah...stupid question.

Dan groans, Elliot snorts. Were they already drifting off? I'm jealous.

"Yeah, Chocolate Bear. Did we wake you up?"

"Naw, man. I haven't gone to bed yet."

I can't see, but I can tell by the shuffling noises that Turk is making his way over to the bed.

"Move over, Vanilla Bear."

"Hey Elliot, shove over."

We all shimmy across my small bed to make room for Turk who weirdly enough instantly spoons me with an arm draped across my middle. Once again – no flinching! I am so proud of me.

"SCB?"

"Don't say it."

"We're spooning."

"No. We. Are. Not."

Pause

"And you're the big spoon."

"Will you two be quiet?!"

"Sorry."

Pause

"We're not spooning."

"Don't be afraid to love me."

"I'm just trying not to fall off the bed."

"Mmm. Hmm."

"Shhhh!"

* * *

**12:15am **

"Elliot, move over."

A chorus of groans sound throughout the room. Once again, we all shift around to make room for one more person. I slide my hand around the top of the covers, trying to find Carla. Oooh – there she is! She's squishy.

"Bambi, watch the hands."

"Oops, sorry Carla."

"Johnny, I'm lonely."

"Not on your life, Dan."

Dan sighs dejectedly and I can hear him flop back down onto the floor. I squint at the clock again. 12:17am - officially the next day. If this is what the morning after looks like, than I could almost cry with relief. I was expecting something strained, like avoiding eye contact and awkward conversations. This is…beautiful. Nearly everyone I care about is right here in my room. I'm surrounded by love and acceptance just when I thought it would be miles away. In this moment, I feel almost content...here in the dark, listening to the sounds of my friends and family breathing around me. I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I don't know what will change once the sunlight begins to break through the flimsy blinds. I don't know how my friends will look at me then, once the shadows retreat to the corners and I'm exposed and vulnerable. But right now, they're here with me. And they want to be. It's almost perfect. Now if only Dr. Cox -

"Don't even think about it, Newbie."

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry this took me forever! Actually, once I sat down and wrote it, it didn't take any time at all. I know it's vastly different than all the other chapters. I wanted something on the lighter side after all the depressing trauma and angst I was throwing around. It's probably the most disappointing thing ever after such a wait...sorry. Hopefully the next chapter will be a little more in keeping with the rest of the story. Thanks for reading!**


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